Forgotten
by Lilacmom22
Summary: Just so that everyone is clear and I don't offend anyone else, this story does involve rape. WARNING! FINALLY FINISHED! THANK YOU TO EVERYONE WHO HAS TAKEN THE TIME OUT TO READ THIS AND ALL THOSE WHO HAVE BEEN VERY PATIENT WITH THE UPDATES.R&R!
1. A cure and a scam

Prologue: a cure and a scam by Epic

She could pinpoint the exact moment the world turned to shit. It was the moment Jean Gray opened her eyes and let the world know that she was alive and pissed off.

Rogue stood by and watched as her own problems were put on the back burner again. No one cared that she still couldn't touch without wreaking havoc, no one worried that her psyche couldn't take any more. No one paid any real attention to her at all. Scott had disappeared. Xavier was busy keeping Jean comatose. Bobby was sniffing around Kitty, although he was at least trying to be sneaky about it. Storm was taking control of the students and making sure that everyone was being good. And Logan was trying to figure out what the hell was going on and too busy sniffing around the med lab.

And then Xavier, the one person she thought could actually help her, died. At the hands of the one woman she could never hope to live up to, no less. Storm buried herself in her work, not wanting to face her own emotions, much less anyone else's. Beast was busy with Washington.

And Bobby… Bobby was too busy comforting Kitty, making sure she was all right. And it had hurt to see them like that, out there on the fountain, surrounded by all those dead water lilies. She wouldn't - couldn't - deny how much it hurt. She couldn't say it out loud, but she wouldn't lie to herself, either. Bobby was supposed to have been with her… Instead, he sought out Kitty: he chose her over his girlfriend. Well, his girlfriend was getting a little sick of being second best.

But, if she was going to be honest with herself, that wasn't what hurt the most. It wasn't until after she saw the two kiss in the moonlight and saw how beautiful they looked together. It wasn't until after she went and packed her bag, ready to run but unsure of what she was running to.

It wasn't until she ran into Logan on her way out. If she had only been a little faster, she would have made it. And when he asked her if she was running again and she got his opinion on the cure, well, it wasn't the answer she needed to hear. It was the truth, at least according to him, but she needed him to tell her that she didn't need it, that she would learn control on her own. Or even just a reassurance that she was just fine how she was, that someone special would see past her mutation and wouldn't care.

Of course, that wasn't how it went, but these things never go the way you picture them. He just told her that he hoped the she wasn't just doing it for some boy, but for herself. That he wasn't her father: like she didn't already know that. Hell, he even offered her a ride. But did he once tell her she didn't need it? Nope.

No, the only person who had tried to reassure her was Storm. And even she knew that reassurance had nothing to do with her, but with mutantkind as a whole. Bullshit. She could see where Storm was coming from, though. Acceptance was very important for peace. Hell, she could even understand her high and mighty view, but there always had to be an exception to the rule. There were mutants out there whose abilities made them a threat to everyone, a danger. Mutants who could take a life with the flick of a wrist, who didn't want that power, had no need for it and who couldn't find any control. Mutants like her.

So she went and took the cure. It was the first time in a long time that she had made any kind of decision for herself. The first time she hadn't taken anyone else's feelings or beliefs into consideration. All her life, she had always done what others thought she should do; even running away was more her parents' idea than her own. They hadn't said it in so many words, but every time she turned around, there was another hint.

Five thousand dollars mysteriously appearing in her previously dwindling bank account that really only had a few dollars left over from her birthday. Her mother buying more and more non-perishable foods, especially in cans with pop-tops. Her father picking up that damn green cloak, not saying a word as he left it on her bed. She really liked how her mother had left the fake ID sitting on her dresser. The biggest hint was when she got out of the shower to find his old army duffle bag just outside her room, empty and newly washed.

She left that night, the cloak wrapped tightly around her, bag full with all the things she would need and ATM card snug in her pocket, along with the fake ID. It was late when she left, a Monday night when no one would see her. Her parents were in their room, ignoring the noises she made. There were no goodbyes, no asking for a phone call, not even an "I love you", nothing. She wondered if they were really sleeping, or if they were just pretending, hiding in their bed from the daughter that could kill them with a touch, holding their collective breath until they heard the front door close. Pitiful, really.

Of course, the one time she actually made a decision for herself, everything went wrong. It backfired. She didn't blame anyone for her troubles, though. It was her decision and she should have known that it was too good to be true. Seeing the more dangerous mutants - the Class Fives - get singled out for treatment first should have been a warning sign, really.

When Bobby was making his rounds to all of the known clinics welcoming those who wanted the cure, she was being introduced to a doctor with a grandfatherly face and soothing voice; claiming to be a specialist selected to help those with more dangerous mutations. He shook her hand gingerly, his hands protected by the latex gloves he wore.

As Magneto was making his assault on the Golden Gate Bridge, she was being strapped down to a table in an isolated compound, being put to sleep, honestly believing that she was going to get a miracle injection. Her mind was whispering goodbye to all the voices in her head, a bittersweet remorse filling her heart with the knowledge that when she woke, they would be gone.

While Logan drove his claws into the being known as Phoenix, her unconscious body was carefully placed in a waiting van.

And, finally, as everyone was arriving home, congratulating each other on a job well done in the same breath they mourned a monster who was once their friend, the young woman who was pushed aside in the shuffle of events was waking to find that she herself was still a monster. Not only was she entering a nightmare that not even the Wolverine could imagine, she had become one of those mutants who are expendable. She was now a statistic, another one of the forgotten.


	2. No contact, no concern

**He awoke abruptly, covered in a slick sheen of cold sweat, his heart pounding, a whimper trapped in his throat. He hadn't screamed, though. Oh God, he hadn't screamed. He felt the cool breeze of the A/C kiss the skin of his legs as it embraced his body and realized that the sheet he had fallen asleep under was pooled on the floor by the side of the bed. He must have kicked it off as he had dreamt. Thankfully, no one had come in to check on him, otherwise they may have gotten an eyeful of parts of his body they had no business seeing.**

It was THAT dream again. Not the one from before, the one of men in white lab coats drinking champagne in a green haze. He hadn't had that one in quite some time now, more than a year as a matter of fact. Not since he had left Stryker in the middle of the frozen wilderness. He was at peace now over that; he didn't need to know everything anymore.

This dream, this nightmare, was far worse. It wasn't exactly the same, either, though it began the same way it always did. Stuck on that damn rock that tried to pass for an island, surrounded by debris and death; the sounds of a war ringing in his ears even as the scent of blood and destruction assailed his olfactory nerves. There was no haze in this dream, no film of green or blue or red or any other color. No, this was in Technicolor - High Definition even. And he could still feel everything he felt while trapped inside it.

Above all, there was Phoenix, standing in front of him and snickering, almost daring him to keep coming. She was waiting, that bored and vacant look in her dark eyes, her lips twisted into a disgusted sneer, hair flying up and behind her like flames. It was the first time he had ever thought her unattractive: at that moment, she was death.

He felt everything as he walked toward her, slowly moving closer. He would not voice the pain he felt from her awesome power, as flesh and muscle were torn from his skeleton only to grow back within seconds. After a walk that seemed to take eternity, she stood before him, her eyes black and cold, veins protruding from her face. He was close enough to touch her and he knew that he would have to do it quickly, before he lost his nerve.

But then her face changed. For a moment, she was Jean again. And her eyes weren't unfeeling but sad and pleading as she begged him to kill her. She wanted it over, too. Phoenix was eating her up from the inside, devouring her mind.

Logan didn't hesitate. He plunged his claws into her chest, listening carefully as her heart rate slowed, feeling the warmth of her blood on his hands. And he closed his eyes, not wanting to watch her die.

And then his nightmare that had plagued him for the last three weeks changed drastically. Normally, he would jolt awake at that point, alone and not nearly as afraid. Sure, his heart was usually racing, but he was never drenched in sweat and he was never on the verge of literally screaming for help.

This time, the dream was significantly different: instead of starting awake as usual, he heard a small gasp of surprise. He opened his eyes again to see her brown eyes staring into his, filled with contempt and blame. And hatred. Her lips were twisted into a snarl, an angry growl rumbling up from inside her chest. Even her scent changed. Jean had always smelled like roses and sophistication with a faint smell of medicine mixed in. Phoenix had shared this scent, but an unmistakable note of danger underlay it.

This scent smelled strongly of honey and magnolias. Of crisp tenderness and dreams. Here too, there was an undeniable danger, but it was open and unfocused and mixed with tenderness. And it clutched at his heart harder than the image of Jean had. He opened his eyes and found his claws imbedded in Rogue's chest, her blood spilling out and pooling around him. There was a thin trickle of it trailing out of her mouth and down her cheek.

He couldn't move - and didn't want to - as she reached for him, her hands bare and her mutation humming. She moved to touch him and he welcomed the electric shock her mutation always brought with it. He closed his eyes; ready for whatever she would give him. He could feel the heat of her skin when her fingers where only a breath away. And then… Nothing. No warm fingers against his face, no pull, no deathly lethargy. He opened his eyes slowly and realized right away why she hadn't touched him. She was already gone.

And that was when he woke, bolting upright. In his dream, it wasn't the woman he had lusted after for over a year that he had murdered, but his friend, the best he'd ever had. He had killed the one person who never judged him or questioned his behavior without good reason, the one woman who had accepted who he was without a moment's hesitation.

He remembered the night after he had killed Jean. He had come home, locked himself into his room and cried. He cried the entire night, ignoring all knocks on his door, all those damn people with their good intentions. And in the morning, when he had cried all that he could, he picked himself up and moved on. He emerged into the world, once again steady and ready to help pick up the pieces.

He worked with the new team, helping them to understand their powers. He made repairs around the house, delegated duties to the students and even started overseeing the history department. There were only a few more weeks in the school year and the kids were afraid of him, so it wasn't that bad, but he was surprised to discover how good he was at it.

Rogue had been gone, but he had known she would be. She had chosen the cure and he wouldn't hold that against her, just be here for her when she returned. She would be able to help out, too…

That was when it hit him. It had been three weeks since the battle on Alcatraz; a few days more since she had left, and there had still been no word. He hadn't heard from her and that wasn't like her. He knew she had nowhere else to go, either. She wouldn't go back to Mississippi. She hated her parents for the way they practically pushed her out of her house. There were no distant relations that would take her in.

He had thought to give her some time to get herself together and figure out what she wanted, but it looked like too much time had passed. He shouldn't have let her go. He should have gone with her or at least tried to talk her out of it. It was too dangerous. But he had been so wrapped up in his own little world, he hadn't realized the magnitude of what she was saying before she walked away and he hadn't noticed when she hadn't returned.

He stood then, willing himself to dress and wake everyone in the mansion. He needed to know that someone had heard from her, someone knew where she was; someone had to know something. Didn't they?

They all stood around the giant conference table in the middle of the War Room, bleary-eyed and yawning, aggravated by the rude wake-up call. No one really knew what this was about or what the problem was. He hadn't said much after growling and snarling that everyone needed to get dressed and into the conference room immediately. Even Colossus was looking a little put out.

"Do you know what time it is, Logan?" Storm asked angrily, glaring at him from across the table. "Unless there is an attack that needs us all or - "

"Has anyone heard from Rogue?" Logan interrupted point blank, ignoring Storm completely. "Anyone seen her since she took off? Talked to her?"

The others did nothing but look at each other quizzically, waiting for someone to confirm, well, anything. No one said a word.

"I tried to look for her," Bobby said softly, his voice hoarse with sleep. He looked to the others for some support, but none was offered. No one had even known about this. "She went and took the cure, Logan. She's probably on her way back to Mississippi or something right now."

"And you don't think that it's weird that she hasn't called anyone? That she hasn't let us know that she's alive?" He couldn't believe the stupidity of the group. They saw worse happen on a daily basis and not one of them was even a little concerned.

"Logan, we would have expected her to call you," Storm said briskly, irritated and rubbing the bridge of her nose between her forefinger and thumb. She was obviously tired, but Logan couldn't seem to feel at all guilty for waking her. Even her flowing bathrobe wasn't tied properly and her hair was askew. "I'm sure she's fine. You taught her how to fight and she was on her own for a year before coming to us. She knows how to take care of herself and she knows how to contact us in case of an emergency." The weather witch studied his face closely, noticing his hard countenance and the darkness in his eyes. "If it will make you feel better, Bobby and I will both sit down and call all of the clinics tomorrow morning. Did she tell anyone her real name?"

Logan watched as they all looked to one another again and smirked as he realized no one actually knew. Not even Iceprick.

"Her name is Marie D'Ancanto," Logan snapped as he turned to leave. "Contact me if you find her."

"And where are you going?" Storm yelled at his retreating back.

"To find her," he tossed over his shoulder as he slammed the door behind him.

Eerily controlled, Logan quietly entered his room and went to the closet. He pulled out a large green duffle bag almost identical to the one Rogue had held in her hands when he let her into his truck. He headed out after throwing in a few bare essentials, ready to start a search he wasn't sure would ever really end.


	3. A cage and no hope

She was motionless as she lay on the slab of concrete that was her bed, clutching her stomach tightly. There was no peace, no rest. There was nothing she could do to escape. They had her in their clutches, and she knew that the only way they were going to let her out of here was as so many ashes. If she was lucky, they would put the ashes in an ugly urn. Or not.

She wished silently for the bliss of sleep to rescue her for just a moment, but that wasn't to be. Even as she lay on the cold slab, covered in nothing but a dirty hospital gown and the bulky collar that had been snapped around her throat the day she arrived, she could hear the hard thuds of footfalls walking down the corridor. She prayed that they would stop before they reached her, that there was something – someone – else that held their attention.

She was in the last cell at the end of the corridor. The walls were thick slabs of concrete and the door was metal. There was no one on the other side of the hall, no cell; just more concrete. She didn't know who else was here, who else was sharing this hell with her, but there *were* others. They weren't allowed to make too much noise during the day, but she could hear them at night, little whimpers and soft cries. The evidence of other captives would last anywhere from a few minutes to several hours, but they always ended the same way: a loud growl that vibrated throughout the building, abruptly quieting everyone.

She could remember the first time she had heard the harshness of that sound. It was her first night here and although she was scared out of her mind, she was standing her ground, watching for any sign of what they planned to do to her. All in all, she was living up to her status as a member of the X-Men. Of course, she no longer cares about that. She no longer fights back either; she knows better now.

She wasn't the only one brought in that horrific night and she could hear others who weren't so in control of their emotions. There were those who wept quietly to themselves and others who were in full-blown hysterics, screaming for help. She wasn't sure which group was worse.

She could hear others trying to calm them down, though, shushing and pleading, telling them it was dangerous and that it would make things worse. She believed them, but there was no telling the others that. They were trapped in their own private little worlds with enough hope to make at least some noise.

And then it happened. The growl. It reverberated through her room just as it did her spine and muscles. She felt it run through her entire body, even her teeth and felt her fear rise even as she settled into a fighting stance, ready for whatever the source of that threat might be.

But the sounds of crying suddenly stopped and the air filled with a fear she had never before realized could exist. As the doors at the opposite end of the corridor opened, she heard the thump of heavy footfalls and suddenly understood the growl wasn't meant to frighten, but to warn. Whoever was emitting that chilling sound was warning the others of what was to come.

In the end, the warning was useless, especially to her.

She was ready to pounce when they came for her, ready to use all of the skin the damn doctors and guards had left bare when they had cut her out of her own clothes and dressed her in the too-small gown. For a second, she worried about the collar around her neck, but brushed the thought away. It was extremely light and didn't seem to hinder any movement in her neck. It shouldn't get in the way.

When they opened the door to her cell, she jumped, nails scratching and teeth biting, her soft brown eyes desperately vicious. She wasn't going down without a fight and she would suck the life out of each and every one of them before she let them hurt her. That wasn't how it was to be, though.

The guards subdued her easily enough, forcing her to the cold, hard floor. She thrashed and snarled, teeth snapping like a rabid dog as she twisted and struggled to escape their hold, but it was no use. They only laughed and commented how spirited she was, causing the Erik inside her to shudder with anger and remembrance. She cursed and threatened and struggled, but they only held her tighter.

There were five guards in all. Four were holding her down even as the fifth moved out of her line of view. She could hear him chuckling. She couldn't understand why they were still conscious, still breathing. She could feel bare hands on her skin, the heat from their flesh burning the nerves under her skin. She closed her eyes, concentrating, willing her mutation to return to life. Why wasn't it working? Why wasn't her mutation helping her?

But even that question escaped her mind as she heard the distinct sound of a zipper ripping open. She looked again, startled by the noise. And she screamed. It was a scream full of terror, hate and the foreknowledge of pain. She screamed and screamed even as she watched the fifth guard move between her spread legs. She continued to scream even as his left hand came down over her mouth, stifling any noise she made and felt his right hand roam over her body, his hands rough and experienced, his touch nauseating. She bucked against him, trying to get out from under him and escape, but that only seemed to make matters worse as he laughed even more, sitting up to look at her. As soon as his hand was gone, she sucked in a breath to scream again, only to find another hand covering her mouth, shutting her up.

"Shh…" the guard between her legs said playfully as he grabbed the hem of her gown, pulling it up harshly and peering down at her body. And she knew then that she wasn't going to get out of this. Not now.

She felt him touch her genital area, groping her without finesse. There was nothing delicate about what he was doing to her and her vision began to blur with the tears that she couldn't seem to control. Then his hand was gone and for a brief second she allowed herself the hope that he was done, that he didn't want her.

But then she felt him again; only this time it was another part of his body. Something harder and more demanding than his hands had ever been and she screamed again as she felt him invade her. She cried as she felt him break through the barrier that kept her from being completely a woman and wanted to die as she felt him move inside of her.

A hatred she had never known could run so deep in her soul welled up as he spilled his unwanted seed deep inside of her and as the first man to ever touch her so intimately rolled away so that another could take his place, she silently vowed that she when she escaped, she would kill them all.

Even now as she heard them stop outside of her cell and the slow click of a key turning in the lock, she made herself the same promise. Let them do what they wanted now, let them have their fun and use her body how they wanted. Once she was free, they would suffer for everything they did to her.

But the days passed slowly, full of experiments and tests, and the nights were agonizing and degrading. Her body soon became exhausted and she could feel her soul withering up, waiting to die. She wished for death and knew that she would never be given such a blessing. She was too rare, too precious for that. These men that controlled her destiny would never let her go. Not until they had used her to perfect what ever it was they were trying to accomplish. She was their special specimen. Telepaths and healers were a dime a dozen, but a woman who could steal the thoughts and mutation of anyone she touched… Well, that was just too good to let go so easily. To say nothing of the fatal consequences of her touch: a perfect assassin's weapon.

"Should we throw her in with the animal? See what happens?" She heard the whispers come from just outside the door as it slowly creaked open. The guards had begun to grow bored with her body and wanted to see something new, something different. She didn't know what this animal was, but she had a feeling that it couldn't be good if they were thinking it up. Who knew, though? Maybe it was a means of escape? "It might be a good show, you know?"

"And what the hell are we supposed to do when he decides to tear her apart, David? We still don't know what this animal is capable of, remember? He just might kill her for the hell of it." This voice was more hushed, but harsher with leadership: it projected authority. She knew who this one was, his face. His were the eyes that stood out the most and haunted her dreams. They were hazel in color, much like those of someone who had once been special to her; but there, the similarities ended, thank god. "The boss said that we could do what we want with her as long as she was still breathing in the morning. He likes this one, too. Says she's special. Has some kind of plans for her."

"Come on, Wayland. We'll be right there, watching the whole thing. If he does anything stupid, I'm sure the six of us can overtake him, especially with the collar on."

It was quiet for a moment as the leader, Wayland, thought over the idea. She had a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach and allowed herself a little hope that she wouldn't be given over to anyone new. If she had to choose between the two, she would have to go with the evil she already knew so intimately. Well, hell.

"Alright, fine," Wayland said sternly. She felt her stomach muscles tighten, and her heart begin to race. He was agreeing with them. "But if we get caught, I ain't takin' the rap on this one, got it?"

"Sure, Wayland. No problem." She could almost here the glee in that voice as the door swung open. And just like that, her fate was sealed: they were handing her over to some monster that would probably tear her apart like a rag doll.

She felt rough hands grab her arms, swinging her around so that she could see their faces. She was certain - positive - that in daylight and under different circumstances these assholes were normal; one or two were maybe even handsome. But here, in the deep darkness of her cage, all she saw was the menacing evil of their intentions and the monstrosity of their thoughts. She tried to struggle, but even she knew it was no use. She could only hope that whatever animal they were taking her to would get it over with quickly.

She was unceremoniously dragged through the corridor, halfway down the hall. They stopped abruptly and, for the first time, she was able to see how long the hall truly was. There were at least twenty rooms, all on the same side, facing an empty wall. She could easily see the cells that were unoccupied: their doors remained open, undisturbed, like the mouth of a hideous creature, waiting for the moment when these kind guards would bring a nice little mutant for it to swallow hole.

The door in front of her opened quickly and before she could see what waited for her, she felt her body being thrown inside, the door slamming behind her. She could hear the low rumble of a growl and her body automatically stiffened, waiting for the moment of attack. She knew she would die, but that didn't mean she wouldn't go down without a fight. She was a member of the X-Men, wasn't she?

She could see his outline move abruptly, saw the way he hunched his shoulders and growled like a creature chained. It was too dark in his cage, no light coming in from the hall as it did in her cell. He was hiding in the shadows.

"What the hell is taking so long?" She heard one of the guards whisper from outside. They were still watching, of course. Waiting. "I figured this was going to be a hell of a show. What is he waiting for?"

She felt him move before she saw it. The way he shifted about on his toes, as if he were getting ready for the big punch of the night. And suddenly, without warning, his hand reached out to grab her and pull her into the deep darkness of his cell, where no one could see what he was going to do. She couldn't stop the scream that escaped her throat.


	4. Thin security and an unlikely truce

"Shhhh…." She could feel his hot breath against her left ear as he tried to calm her. She kept her eyes shut tightly, in fear of what he was going to do with her - to her. She felt her fear grow as his hands wrapped tightly around her waist, jerking her body behind his in the shadows. She heard him growl, but it wasn't directed at her.

As she opened her eyes, she found that her vision had adjusted somewhat and she could see his silhouette, the shape of his face against the faint light just out of reach through the door. She gasped when she realized exactly who was growling at the guards.

She stepped forward as panic began to set in. She didn't care what had happened or could still happen to her on the other side of that door. Nothing they could do to her would be anywhere near as bad as what the psychopath in front of her was capable of. And he was angry; there was no denying that. His entire stance and demeanor exuded annoyance, increasing the danger of her situation. She moved a little to the right, trying to see if there was going to be any way out of her predicament. Maybe if she moved fast enough…

Still, something stopped her; something that she wasn't expecting held her back. He still faced the door and the guards, but the hand that he used was gentle, almost protective. There was no power behind it, nothing that would keep her still, yet she found it hard to move away. He was keeping her there, but not through force.

"Should we hit him with the tasers?" one of the guards asked suddenly, the fear in his voice obvious.

"No…" another whispered slowly. This one had to be Wayland. She didn't think she would ever forget his voice. Momma always said you never forgot your first, and he had made damn sure everything about him was going to be imprinted on her mind for the next millennium. "Leave her for the morning shift."

"Aren't we going to get in trouble for this?" another asked as they began to back away from the tightly secured cell.

"Nah. Not as long as he doesn't kill her. Judging by the way he was holding her back, I say she's pretty safe where she is." They hadn't moved entirely away from the cell yet, and Rogue could still hear everything that was being said. "Besides, morning shift has more people to help get her out. I think if we tried to go in, a couple of us might not live to talk about it. And I don't know about you, but I want to be around long enough to see my little girls grow up. Plus, I'd really hate to be the one to have to call a couple wives."

While they spoke, he stood patiently, watching. She knew that he was listening, trying to make sure that they weren't returning anytime soon, just as she was. As the guards moved away from the cell, she watched his tense shoulders slowly relax. Muscle by muscle, he eased out of his aggressive posture, only to turn his dark gaze on her.

"Hello, Victor," Rogue whispered tentatively as she cautiously backed away from him. Almost immediately, her backside hit the hard concrete wall with a quiet thud.

~*~*~*~

"I ain't gonna hurt you, Rogue," Victor said quickly, eyeing her carefully as they mentally circled each other. "Would you just calm down?"

"Sure will, sugar! Why don't we just sit down right here, have a couple of beers and get some cards to play some Go-Fish!" she shot back with a small eye-roll, a sugary sweet smile and thick sarcasm. "I bet those guards out there will be more than happy to provide us with what we need. Hell, maybe if we ask nicely, they just might open this here little door for us and we could go skipping through a field of wildflowers, holding hands and laughing like a couple of schoolgirls!"

"Knock it off, Frail. I already said I won't hurt you, but if you don't quit tempting me, I just might have to," he huffed as he took a seat on the hard floor. He tipped his head back against the wall, closing his eyes as if deep in thought. "I don't see how the runt can put up with this shit…"

"What happens now?" she asked softly, watching him carefully. He seemed relaxed enough, almost peaceful. She allowed her body to settle, but only a little. She wasn't ready to relax completely. "What do we do if they come for me?"

"That depends," he replied with a careless shrug as he opened his black eyes and gave her a look that could only be described as bored. "Are you going to want to go with them?"

She knew what the real question was, what he really needed to know: would she trust him? She hesitated for a moment, unsure of her answer. If she went willingly, she knew exactly what was waiting for her: rapes, beatings, tests and experiments; but, above all else, loneliness. She would be completely alone in the world that awaited her outside of this cell. To the scientists and guards outside, she was a toy, an experimental subject - a lab rat. And when they were finished, bored of her unique mutation, they would dispose of her without a second thought. Permanently.

And then there was Victor to consider - Sabretooth. Even sitting on the floor, he was a formidable man. A psychotic monster capable of numerous and varied crimes who cannot be stopped. But he seemed complacent enough. "If I stayed and fought, would you hurt me?" She didn't know why she thought he would be honest with her, but she had to ask, had to hear it in his own words.

"Nah, kid. I ain't gonna hurt ya." He chuckled a little at this, his neck relaxing a bit more as he tilted his head to the side. "If I was going to kill you, well, you would already be dead, wouldn't you?"

She knew his words were true. There was no real gain for him to keep her alive and intact. Even without his mutant abilities, he could have taken her and snapped her spine without a second thought. Yet she couldn't help but wonder why he hadn't done so. There was no reason to dwell on it though, at least not now. She could ask those questions later, once she felt a little safer.

She sighed heavily as she sat down on the hard stone bench that was used as a makeshift bed. All of the rooms were the same, but she figured they would be. Besides the cold, stone beds, there were also metal toilets, much like the ones seen in cop shows and such. A blanket lay strewn across the floor. Victor must have thrown it when he heard the guards dragging her down the hall.

"So what do we do now?"

Victor opened his eyes again and looked at her closely, a little annoyed. "We sleep. Tomorrow, when the others come to get you out, we fight them off. They aren't going to want to risk hurting you too badly, so they'll give eventually. And then we start figuring a way to bust the hell out of here. Go to sleep, kid. We'll figure this out as we go."

Rogue lay down obediently, her eyes wide open as she watched him close his own again. She wasn't sure how she fell asleep that night, or when. All she knew was that, one moment, she was watching the most dangerous and bloodthirsty man she had ever met dozing in the corner of the room, and the next, her eyes were snapping open to find him gently covering her with the blanket she had seen on the floor before.

~*~*~*~*~

He rode hard long into the night, not concentrating on anything around him. None of the clinics would be open for another couple of hours yet, but he was desperate to get away from the mansion. He knew they were right. He had been stuck in his own little world, not caring what happened to the others. Not caring of the pain anyone else was feeling. He hadn't given any thought to the kid.

He'd find her. He had to. She was the only one who ever gave a damn about him just for him - the only one without any ulterior motives. And this was how he took care of her.

He pushed himself harder, fighting off fatigue and a deep fear that yawned in his soul. Something in his bones told him that he wouldn't find her in Mississippi like everyone else assumed. She was in more danger than anyone had predicted, and if he didn't find her fast, he had a hunch that he wouldn't find her at all.


	5. New ally and a deadly promise

She woke abruptly, feeling the walls closing in on her. The first thing she saw was Sabretooth still leaning against the wall, snoring softly. There still wasn't any real lighting in their small prison, but that didn't mean much. The soldiers and the scientists told them whether it was night or day. The lights came on and went off no matter what the real world was experiencing. They were told when to sleep and when to get up. There wasn't much to do during the day unless you were lined up for a new procedure, so you often found yourself alone with your thoughts. She preferred to sleep.

But now, when she needed it most, the one bliss she could usually find in this earthly version of hell eluded her. Instead, she found herself twitching at every noise, waiting for something to happen. She was waiting for a pair of greasy hands to emerge from the shadows and grab her, taking away the small sense of security she had found in the most unlikely company.

Someone coughed in the distance, and she heard herself squeak in reply as her body twitched. Maybe the guards had only decided to wait until her new savior was asleep before they tried to take her again. Maybe they were hiding, shrouded in darkness, waiting for their chance. She was too absorbed in watching the door, waiting for it to open to notice movement coming from her left. She didn't know what she would do if they tried something now, but, one thing was for sure, she was going to fight. Win or lose, she wasn't going to go quietly. Not anymore.

She felt his eyes on her before anything else. She hadn't even heard his snores subside. Turning, she was surprised to find his eyes on her, watching her too closely, openly curious. She didn't like the way his eyes bored into her, searching for something that she wasn't sure she still possessed.

"What is it, Frail?" he asked softly. He stood up and walked to her, his movements slow and deliberate. She wondered how she must look, if he was treating her like a skittish animal. "What's wrong?"

"If they come for me," she whispered, pausing to swallow her fear as best she could. There was no way she was going to go back into that hell. It didn't matter if there was any chance of escape from this. "You have to fight. Don't let them take me. I don't know what they have planned for me, but - but I can't go through that again."

He let his shoulders relax as he sat next to her on the bench. He sighed loudly, obviously agitated by her demand. "I already told you I would help you, Rogue. It's going to get real fucking annoying to have you keep asking the same shit every half hour."

"Yeah, I know. But there is one more thing," she licked her lips, tearing her eyes away from his. Her body shook with the fear of having him so close to her, only millimeters from touching. It wasn't even so much the threat of what he once was. She shook with the fear of knowing that he was male, and what he could easily do to her if he wanted to. Now that her skin was off, it was pretty much open season on her for anyone. Even with all of her experience in hand-to-hand combat, she hadn't been training that long. Logan had showed her some things, but even most of her fighting skills were based on the Wolverine in her head, whispering to her what she needed to do. She didn't have that now. It seemed that whatever technology these people had used to suppress her mutation made the voices and memories of those she touched mere ghosts in her head. Now she found that she could only feel the bare minimum of their emotions. She had memories of memories that, in essence, were useless.

Victor watched her closely as she lost herself in thought. He knew that she was fighting with some inner demons, but he wasn't sure which side was winning. Part of him wanted to hurry her up. The shifts would change soon and they would have to think of something fast if she was really willing to stay.

Finally she spoke again, and later, he would admit to himself that he wasn't really that surprised by her words.

"If it looks like we aren't going to win, like they are going to be able to get their damn hands on me and take me away again…" her voice trailed off, and again, he found himself waiting with more patience than he had ever thought he could have. "I need you to kill me. I know you can do it. I know what you are capable of. Do not let them have me. They have something planned for me. Something big. I can't let them do whatever it is they need to do."

"Alright," he agreed with a shrug. She was shocked by his nonchalant reaction. But then, why shouldn't she be? This was Sabretooth, after all. "How ever you want to go."

She was going to have to thank him, as hard as that would be right now. How did you thank someone for promising to kill you? But then the lights came on and she knew it was time to face whatever was going to be thrown at them next.

~*~*~*~*~*~

It was the first time he had really seen her fully, and he flinched at the sight. She wasn't sickly thin yet, but close enough. There were bruises marring her skin, old yellow marks kissing the pale skin in odd places on her face. Fresher bruises of dark blue, black and purple ran along her arms and legs. He had known what they were doing to her, but he hadn't realized the extent of it all until now, looking at her closely. Her hair was matted and dirty from weeks of sweat and filth build-up. But it was her eyes that were worse than anything else. Large eyes that were too big for her face but somehow made her beautiful. Brown pools that were far older than her years. She had lived through lifetimes of pain and torture at the hands of others. She was no more than 19 or 20 now, but the pain in her eyes spoke of centuries.

"They're coming," he growled softly, watching her body stiffen. He knew why she wanted him to kill her and it had nothing to do with these people's big plans. But, if that was what she wanted him to think, he wasn't going to argue.

He listened closely as the footsteps echoed closer to their cell. There were at least seven people. The sound of military-issue boots alerted him to the presence of guards, but at least one pair had the squeaky sound of office shoes.

A face appeared in the small barred hole in his door. He was much older than those around him, the creases around his eyes and mouth telling his age. His eyes were old, not as old as the kid's, but old enough. And his skin had the pink, healthy glow of one who worked in the safe cool air of an office or lab; no outside work for this man.

"And how the hell are we supposed to pull her out of there, pray tell?" the doctor asked, looking skeptically at someone just beyond the window.

The voice was unmistakable, and he sensed Rogue stiffen even further at the sound. Wayland: her own personal demon. "I told them that it was a bad idea, Dr. Saunders. But the guys, you have to understand, they're under a lot of stress. And we just found out that no one's getting the raise we were all hoping for. They just needed to let off some steam."

"Well," the big boss replied with a sickly sweet smile as he turned his attention back to those within the cage, "if you need to let off some steam, I guess the best way would be to put you to work. Your crew is now on probation. The entire crew, Mr. Romas. You will be in charge of cleaning the cells when our specimens are in for testing and procedures. You will also dispose of any waste we may handle during these procedures. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Sir," Wayland replied quickly, though, judging by his tone, he was not happy with his punishment.

"Now, when you and your friends were abusing your privileges," Dr. Saunders continued slowly, his voice tolerant and devoid of any real emotion, "did you use any protection or am I going to have a pregnant mutant to take care of?"

"Of course we did, Doctor. We all did. We were careful about that. All of us." At Wayland's words, Victor felt Rogue relax considerably.

"Very good. Just a few more things and then you are dismissed for tonight," Dr. Saunders continued quickly. "First off, you and your entire crew are suspended with pay for the next week. Go home to your wives and children. Face them with the knowledge of what you did to this girl. Regardless of her mutation, she is still a human being and little more than a child. I believe you have a daughter her age. Look at your daughter and understand how you would feel knowing that someone did to her just once what you have been doing to this child nightly for the last few weeks."

"Yes, Sir." The distinct sound of boots turning and walking away was clear as Victor held his breath, waiting for what was to happen next.

"One more thing, Mr. Romas, if you please." The retreating footsteps stopped, but did not return. "If you or any member of your crew so much as breathe on another of our specimens, I will personally see that your employment is terminated. And I know you already have an idea of what that means, correct?"

"Yes, Sir." And Wayland was gone. After a few moments of watching the way Victor interacted with the kid, the good doctor signaled the others to retreat.

~*~*~*~*~*~

"What do we do now, Doctor?"

Dr. Saunders looked up from the files he had open on his desk. One was marked 'Victor Creed AKA Sabretooth', the other simply said 'Rogue'. "We let them keep each other. It says here that the girl was given a depo shot upon entry. She has a little over two months for that to work its way out of her system. Once it has, they should be procreating nicely. I believe that any offspring these two conceive will be quite powerful. A nice weapon, if I say so myself. This child and the mother, well, if we are able to train them both correct, they will both be a wonderful contribution to our nation's military."

"And Creed?" the head of security asked suspiciously. He had a feeling he already knew what the good doctor was going to say.

Dr. Saunders smiled slowly, his eyes twinkling with unholy glee. "Victor Creed has been a thorn in my side for the last three years. No more. Once he has done his part, he shall be destroyed."


	6. A lead and a plan

"Why?" she asked softly as soon as she knew the guard who delivered their dinner was too far to hear. She looked down at the plate in front of her. Real meat lay on her plate, along with fresh vegetables and rice. The metal cup that had been pushed through the bars was filled with clear, cool, clean water. One sip told her it was bottled. Nothing like that thick, brown shit they had been serving up until recently. Something was up, something big. She just needed to figure out what.

"Why what?" Victor asked as he dug into his own plate. He was served a meal as nicely prepared as her own. No gruel. No bland broth. No crusts of bread. For the last month, since the doctor had decided to let her stay in this cell, they had been served much the same way. Breakfast usually consisted of a wide variety of things from cereal to fresh fruit to eggs and sausage, even. Lunch was usually fish of some sort. At times, there were even servings of fruits and yogurt between meals, and always a nice dinner much like what they were eating now. Most of the time, she was given clean water, but she was also brought at least one glass of milk and some type of juice daily.

At first, both were apprehensive of the food, wondering if it contained any foreign substances. After the first three days, she and Victor had agreed and said to hell with it. If the men in power were trying to kill them, well, anything beat living out the rest of their days in this hell hole. Still, Rogue found herself wondering if the other mutants being held here were given the same treatment. Judging by the very audible gasps and moans whenever the smell of their food permeated the environment, she very much doubted it.

"Why haven't you killed me? Or at least hurt me by now?"

She was serious with the questions she had asked Victor over the time they spent together. He hadn't touched her, not once. He hadn't even raised his voice at her. She had vowed that she wouldn't ask him, would avoid anything that might remind him that he could very easily and happily snap her neck. But the suspense was getting to be too much for her to handle, she needed to know.

He sighed, quietly dropping his spoon to his plate. He had known this was going come up, he'd just figured that she would have asked well before now.

"I don't know, Frail," he replied, his gaze slowly drifting from his plate to her face. He sat back on the hard slab of concrete, letting his back rest against the wall. She was sitting on the floor on the other side of the cell, facing him. Both still wore very little, but what they were given was clean, even if their bodies were not. "At first - I've been stuck in this cell for about three years now. You were the first person I saw who wasn't in a uniform and wielding a taser… Guess I figured it would be nice to have some company."

"And now?" she asked softly, relaxing a bit more.

"Now?" He shrugged his shoulders. The small movement caught her off guard; it showed a vulnerability she had never even suspected he could feel. "You've kind of grown on me. I like having you around, someone to talk to. And you're about as fucked up in the head as I am."

She smiled at that, but it was bitter, full of sadness and pain. It reminded him of a question he had been putting off, something that he had been curious about since the beginning.

"Why haven't you dealt with what happened?" He asked quickly, before his brain could tell him to leave it alone.

"What? You mean the kidnapping?" she asked, her gaze falling back to her food. She wasn't stupid. She knew exactly what he was asking about. Wondering why she had opened her big, fat mouth, she began to push the rice around her plate.

"The rapes, Frail. It's been a month. Why haven't you dealt with it?" he asked quietly, not backing down this time. It wasn't healthy to leave these things to fester. They had a way of building up and exploding all over you sooner or later. "You won't even acknowledge what happened to you. Why?"

She refused to look at him, partly because she knew he was right. She couldn't keep from thinking about it all the time. Truth be told, it was always at the forefront of her mind, but she also didn't want him to see the tears that were forming in her eyes. She was stronger than this. She had to prove that she was. If she couldn't deal with this on her own, then what could she deal with?

"Because I'm fine, Victor. It happened. There is no point in dwelling on it." She stuffed a spoonful of food into her mouth again, hoping that he would take the hint and drop the subject.

She should have known better. Victor and Logan had many more things in common than either would ever admit to and one of them was the inability to let things go. "You need to deal with this, Frail. It's going to eat you alive."

Rogue felt her cheeks grow red with anger as she lifted her gaze back to the man who had no right to try to counsel her. He had saved her life, true enough, but this was also the man who had given her to Magneto. "What the hell do you care? Tell me something, Sabretooth; how many women have you destroyed over the years?"

He flinched at her words, but knew he deserved it. He had done some pretty horrendous things in his past, but he wasn't going to apologize. Not to the girl who was alive and protected only because of him. "We're not talking about me right now, Frail. I've dealt with my past. When are you going to grow up and deal with yours?"

She tried to hold in the tears, but it was too much for her. Once they spilled over, she found it impossible to keep her emotions at bay any longer. Her shoulders collapsed as she lost control and began to weep uncontrollably.

"Why me, Victor? Why?" she yelled as she picked up the plate of food and threw it across the room. It hit the wall only inches from his head and he knew this was what he had been waiting for. This was what she should have done long ago.

He moved from his bench, crossing the room in three swift steps. He reached for her, but she screamed.

"Don't fucking touch me now, Victor. Don't you fucking touch me," she shrieked as he reached for her. He didn't heed her warning, only grabbed her and gathered her close to his body. He held her as she screamed and cursed everyone from the guards that had done this to her to God himself. He held her as she lost her words and just wept uncontrollably. Finally, when she had no more tears, he held her still.

He had spent the last three years in this very cell with no one to talk to but himself. In all that time, he found that there was nothing to do but dwell on his past. He would never apologize for the pain he had caused just as he would never feel any guilt. But he felt himself soften for this girl as he held her until she stopped shaking. This was different.

He cared for this girl. She didn't deserve any of this shit. He had to get her out, fast. Before the damn scientists started whatever little experiments they were preparing her for.

~*~*~*~*~

He watched her carefully as she slept. She had cried well into lights out, finally dozing off with streaks of tears and dirt along her cheeks. She stayed in his arms, propped against him on the cold, hard floor, her hands tangled in his hospital gown, as if she was holding on for dear life… or her sanity.

He tightened his hold on her as she squirmed in her sleep. Maybe a nightmare, maybe something better; there was no way of knowing. He didn't know what to do about any of this. He was a cold-blooded killer, for crying out loud. And here he sat, cuddling the protégé of his greatest enemy. What the hell?

The frail wasn't his responsibility. She had no claim over him and he had no use for her. He would say she wasn't his type, but that would be a lie. There was only one prerequisite for his type: breathing. But there was no attraction, no pull. Nothing. Then why the hell was he still being nice to her?

He knew the answer, though. When those assholes had thrown her in here with him, she hadn't reacted in any way that he could have expected. After realizing who he was, she should have been clawing at the damn door to get out. Screaming and promising everything that she could think of to go back to her cell. But, instead, she stayed. She had shown the kind of balls and brass he hadn't seen in too long. She even got sarcastic with him. And, to top it all off, she asked him for help. A promise.

She had treated him like a real human being. Shown him respect and been honest with him. No one had done that in years. Even when he was working for Magneto, he was still just an animal. Victor couldn't help but wonder if this was why the runt seemed to care so much for her.

He drifted off to sleep, the frail still in his arms, peaceful now. She was still vulnerable, still sleeping, and most importantly, still trusting. He had an idea of how to get them out of there, but he would need that trust to pull off what he had planned. If she didn't agree, he doubted they would get out of here alive.

~*~*~*~*~

"Have there been any developments?" Saunders asked as Wayland stepped into his office just after sunrise.

Wayland stood stiffly at attention, careful not to break protocol. The last time the good doctor had spoken to him, Saunders had categorically informed him that if he stepped out of line again, his position and those of his men would be terminated. There was no question what that meant. There was only one way out of this line of work. Can't have any disgruntled employees going to the media.

"Some, sir. When I checked on them last night, the male was holding the female. I believe it is only a matter of time, now." Wayland didn't look at the man while he spoke, instead keeping his gaze fixated on a spot over Dr. Saunders' head. He was keeping things completely professional.

"Excellent. Let me know if you notice any more changes. With any luck, they will be submersed in the process of mating by the time her contraception runs its course. You're dismissed. Go home and enjoy your children." Saunders waved the man off, waiting until the door was firmly closed again before looking over the memo lying on his desk. The girl was powerful, indeed.

They had known from the beginning about the effects of her mutation, especially when used against another mutant. After excessive testing on blood samples taken from the female, it was concluded that each time she 'borrowed' another mutation, it became partially encoded into her DNA. The longer the contact, the larger the imprint, meaning that if she held on to someone long enough to cause a deep coma or even kill them, it was very possible that she would be able to develop and use the mutation. It was also likely that she would be able to eventually use a mutation if she touched the same mutant often enough.

There was one imprint that was vastly larger than any other. After comparing it to the other samples of the x-gene that had been acquired over the last five years of operation, there was no absolute match, but one was close: Victor Creed and his healing ability. Who ever the mutant known only as Rogue had touched, it wouldn't take much more to push that over. Saunders couldn't help but wonder if using Victor as a substitute would work.

~*~*~*~*~

It was a month before he got any leads.

He was in Philadelphia, at a small clinic right in the middle of the roughest part of the city before he found anyone who remembered her. And, of course, it was an overly flirty nurse who looked as if she did her makeup with help from a paint gun. She eyed him carefully when he had only given her one name, but that didn't stop her from inviting him to her place after her shift, scribbling the address on a prescription slip. It was only after he saw the little note she tacked on that he knew there was more to this meeting than wanting a quickie. 'Make sure you're not followed.'

That was when he was positive she had information.

He arrived right on time, but only after driving around town the entire time, without stopped once. He had become overly paranoid that someone was watching him, but he made damn sure they wouldn't be able to follow. Knocking on the door of the small apartment, he was surprised when she answered right away. Only, she didn't look like Nurse Betty anymore.

Dressed in an expensive looking pantsuit and wearing not even a tenth of the makeup she had on before, he knew that she wasn't what he thought.

"Agent Savannah Danvers, FBI," she said quickly, offering him a firm handshake. "Come on in, Mr. Logan. I think we have a lot to discuss."

He followed her in without uttering a word as he looked around the dingy apartment. There was a couch and a TV, a few books. He suspected the bedroom probably had a bed that was hardly slept in and a very minimal amount of clothes. But the walls and the table in the kitchen were another story altogether. Every piece of wall was covered with black and white photos of people. A few faces he recognized from the clinic this very morning. He suspected that the others were doctors or nurses, also. But one section soon captured his attention more than any other. It was marked with a single heading at the very top, perfectly lined up with the ceiling: WHAT HAPPENED TO THEM?

And there, smack in the centre, was Rogue.

"I recognized you from the news when Erik Lehnsherr and his team made that attack on Alcatraz. That's the only reason I am willing to bring you into this." She was watching him with hard eyes and no smile, clarifying where they stood with each other from the get-go. "It's against protocol, but I believe you can help us."

"What do you know?" he asked simply.

"She met a doctor by the name of Saunders. He promised her a cure, but that they would have to go to his main facility," she said quickly, efficient. "She went willingly enough. She was one of the few that disappeared after leaving here."

"I take it they didn't take everyone?" Logan asked curiously, studying the pictures of the missing mutants. His gaze kept wandering back to the only face he recognized.

"Only those who could be valuable. No psychics or teleporters. Too much of a hassle and not needed. The more powerful they are, the greater chance they're still alive."

He turned to her then, his curiosity piqued. "What do you want from me?"

She turned his attention to the opposite wall. He hadn't seen it when he first walked into the kitchen, but a giant map hung just by the door. "I've been able to track them to different areas across the States. Not all, but some. I've asked for more manpower on this, but it's not easy finding an ear sympathetic to the mutant cause, and I'm still too deep undercover. I was lucky enough just to get in. I can't blow it now, not until I have every one of those places pinned, but I can give you information on one of them. I believe the girl you're looking for is being held here."

"What's in it for you?" he asked warily, as his eyebrow went up.

She paused for a second, gazing back at the map. She was collecting her thoughts, and he gave her the time she needed. It was a full minute before she spoke again. "My little sister was a surprise for our folks, and a blessing. I was their only child and just graduating high school when she was born. She was a bright girl growing up and could do no wrong in their eyes. She was the favorite, even mine. And when she developed her abilities, well, they accepted it without a second thought. She was a pilot in the Air Force when it was discovered that she was a mutant. She went to take the cure and never came back. I've pinpointed her to the same location. I've been trying to get there myself, but the higher ups are refusing to investigate. None of these people are underage and with relations between humans and mutants being what they are, no one wants to give the manpower. My hands are tied."

Logan got it now. She needed him for his skills as much as he needed her for her information. As a government official, she couldn't make a move without someone breathing down her neck. But he had no ties, and he knew how to disappear and keep low.

"What's her name?" he asked quietly. It was his way of agreeing, and there was no denying the hope that sprang into her eyes. "And do we know any of the others who are being held captive?"

"Carol," Agent Danvers replied quickly, hurrying to fumble through the papers on the desk to give him the information he would need. "She's very gifted. Super strength, flight, invulnerability. I still don't know what they are using to nullify her mutations, but she has military training and once you infiltrate and release her, she'll be a great asset. Besides her and your girl, we don't know much else about the others. There should be a total of fifteen, ten of whom have homes to return to, including Carol and Rogue."

She handed him a full stack of papers, on top of which was a rough sketch of the layout of the building. It wasn't much, but it would help. And at least he now knew where to go. "I had a woman on the inside, one of their cooks. She disappeared three days after they took Rogue. We hadn't been in touch for very long, so I wasn't able to get much. They keep the place tight. Do you have anyone who can back you up on this? Anyone you can trust?"

Logan thought about that for a moment. Yeah, he had people who would help, but trust was another issue. "Yeah, the mutants in there. I'll get in, and they'll help me get them out. From what you've told me, I think this might be the place they keep the most dangerous."

"Good luck, Logan. Please bring Carol back to me. My private number is in there. Call me if you need anything."

Logan left quickly, rushing to get on the road. Even without stopping to rest, it would still take him a while to get there if he drove. He'd have to return to the mansion, borrow something a little faster. Thank God Chuck had made him take those flying lessons after he returned from Alkali Lake the first time.

Considering how much he hated the government for what he had been through and his suspicions of their involvement in Rogue's disappearance, he found it pretty ironic that it was a member of the FBI who got him on track. A fucking federal agent, for crying out loud.

~*~*~*~*~

"Can you run that by me again?" Rogue asked slowly. She sipped at her juice, keeping a wary eye on the man in front of her. He was a psychopath, yes, but this was just completely beyond comprehension.

"We wait until the grave shift comes on in another hour or so. They don't have as many guards and only one physician in case of emergencies," Victor replied, his voice agitated. He should have known she wouldn't go for it, but they didn't have many options. "We'll wait until they come in to do their rounds. It's going to have to look real, so it's going to be a little deep, but it won't be life threatening or anything like that. And as soon as they see it, they're going to turn off these damn collars so that you can use my abilities. As soon as they flip the switch, we attack. I know you can fight, but stay close to me. If you have to, give me a little tickle, but not too much. Everything's going to be crazy, so I'm going to need my strength."

"Will this even work?" she asked skeptically, her voice high with frustration. "I mean, how do we know they will even turn off the collars? They do have that doctor."

Victor couldn't help but chuckle. That was the beauty of it all. "They aren't going to let you die for anything. And the doc they have tonight is a drunken buffoon. The first year I was here, I kept cutting myself open, trying to get out. The doctor kept fucking it up, so they would just turn off the collar long enough for me to heal, but they didn't have to come into the cell to do it. You'll be playing 'possum though, and with the tantrum I'll be throwing, they'll have to come in and get you to touch me before getting out. If they tase me, it will wear off as soon as the collars are off."

"And the others?"

He sighed. He hadn't considered the others. He didn't know how many there were, but he also knew that she wouldn't be able to leave them behind. "We'll get them, too."


	7. Rescue and escape

He folded his arms over his chest, in all his stubborn glory. He needed this *now*, and there was no question in his mind that he was going to get it. It was just a matter of persuasion, or, if that didn't work, force. He didn't give a damn if he had to pin her to the wall and just take it, he was going to get what he needed.

"I said no. Not until you tell me why," she said implacably, tucking a stray lock of snow-white hair behind her ear.

He knew he shouldn't have asked; he should have just taken the damn thing and be done with it. By the time she would have figured out what was happening, it would have been too late. Scowling, he fought to stop the growl rumbling in his chest from leaving his throat. If he scared her now, any chance of success would die.

"I've got a lead on where she might be," Logan grudgingly explained. Knowing what was coming next, his shoulders stiffened. "I won't tell you who my source is, so don't even ask, but I need the jet to get there. As soon as possible."

Stiffly, she moved to stand behind the desk as he dropped a large file folder on it. She had been browsing through the books on the shelf that covered the wall behind her when he had entered the room with a demand for access to the jet on his lips. "And where do you expect her to be?"

He had been gone for so long without any word, too long. No one had been able to contact him, though there had thankfully been no need; the world seemed to be a quiet place at the moment. A wave of guilt unlike any Storm had ever felt before gnawed at her. Like the others, she had believed that Rogue had returned to Mississippi after taking the cure. When they had conducted a brief search of clinics within a few hours travel time from the mansion, they had come across a doctor at the one in Philadelphia who had assured them Rogue had received treatment there. Of course, he refused to disclose any other information and it took several threats before he would tell her even that much.

It seemed the doctor had lied. Storm knew that if they had taken a little time, given that little extra effort to look a little deeper, they might have found more, but she hadn't felt it was necessary at the time. Not until three minutes ago, when Logan burst through her doors.

"Southern Nevada; Area 51, to be exact. It seems that the old military site was rebuilt as a mutant lab. I have faith in my intel and a rough map of the facility, but I need to leave now. Every moment she's stuck in this place is a moment closer to losing her completely," Logan retorted as he pointed to the file. Storm quickly took her seat to leaf through the information. As she began to read through the manila folder, her muscles tightened exponentially with anger, frustration, horror and that ever-increasing guilt that all twisted her stomach into a sickening knot.

She couldn't look very far before she had to consciously remind herself to breath deeply as she continued to read, in an effort to release the tension that was literally making her ill. Judging by the documentation and pictures, mutants were taken off the streets and out of clinics to be tested and experimented on. Barely legal adults, most of them had families who were currently looking for them. According to whoever had gathered the information, the mutants were locked in cages for the most part, living on little more than bread and water. Worse, as long as the captives were still mostly alive afterwards, the guards were allowed to do whatever they wanted to them.

"Alright, Logan, you have your jet," Storm said softly, not taking her eyes off the picture of a dead girl who had been no more than eighteen. There were scars lining her face and torso; Storm had to fight hard against the tears that threatened. She could be looking at a picture of Rogue. "But you must take the team with you."

"No," he denied, leaning over the desk for the argument ahead. "They're not welcome on this trip. They've done enough."

"We weren't the only ones who forgot about her, Logan," Storm snapped, a hissing note in her tone. Logan flinched at her words, the anger in her voice cutting him better than any knife. "You will be concentrating on getting Rogue out, but I want to make sure anyone else in there makes it, too. Bobby will be your co-pilot - "

He growled at the name, stopping her abruptly. "Like hell, Storm. I get that you want more people on this; I respect that. But I'll be damned if I am going to be stuck on that jet with Bobby or Kitty, not after what they did. Pick someone else."

"Fine," Storm replied, standing up again. "You will take Colossus. He has experience and the requisite strength. And when the time comes, Rogue works well with him since they were trained as a unit. He was also the only one to insist on doing a search in the first place, and wanted to continue after we were misinformed."

Logan agreed; he knew the boy well, enough to know that he would be an asset on this. If for some unforeseen reason Logan was unable to get in and out, Piotr would be able to take over.

"Angel will go also. He doesn't have a lot of training, but he has proven himself. He'll be able to handle surveillance of the area from the air." She paused, a small smile playing on her lips. "You will also need someone to stay with the jet, and, since the one thing the three of you have in common is your magnificent lack of people skills, you will take Jubilee as well. She's been training and has become a magnificent pilot. If something happens to you, she'll be able to get you out with no problem."

"Fine. Have them at the jet and ready to go in five minutes, or I'm taking off without them," he replied briskly. He turned to leave without another word.

~*~*~*~*~*~

"You ready for this, Frail?" Victor asked quietly as she paced the room. The lights had just gone off in the hall, signaling that the night shift would be making their first rounds within the next few minutes.

"Not really, but I'm going to do it anyway." She didn't look at him as she spoke, only going reviewing the plan in her mind again and again. She was putting her life in the hands of a confessed murderer. Not just any murderer, either. Nope, this one was proud. She was going to let him cut her open and pray that he didn't kill her in the process, but she didn't really see how she had any other option. "Hurry up and do it, Victor. I'm getting a little antsy."

He smiled faintly at her wit as he stood from the cement bench, and stalked toward her. He didn't want to do this anymore than she did. He would literally be cutting it close and if anything went wrong, she might not live. He let the claw of his index finger run lightly against the cloth lying against her abdomen. This would bleed a lot and he needed to make sure that it looked real. "You don't have to do this, you know."

"Yeah, I do," she replied slowly, squeezing her eyes shut tightly as she waited for the pain. He had only applied a small amount of pressure before her eyes snapped open again. "Wait!" she yelped, remembering not to be too loud. She didn't want the guards coming to investigate a commotion before they were ready for them.

"What the hell is it now, Frail?" Victor snapped in irritation as he pulled back and ran his hand through his mane. All he had to do was stab her and then he would be able to get them out of here.

She chewed on her bottom lip, looking anywhere but at him. She wanted to say something but didn't know how. It wasn't until blood began to creep into her face that he realized that she was embarrassed. "Will you kiss me?"

He didn't have any words to say to that, merely raised a skeptical eyebrow at her. Kiss her? There was no attraction between them, at least none that he could feel, so what was the point? Why the hell would she want him to kiss her?

As her skin slowly returned to its naturally pale color, her voice came out in a low whisper, "It's my last chance, Victor. Once this collar comes off… I won't be able to touch anyone again." She paused. "This is probably my last shot at a real kiss," she said slowly, as if only now admitting the truth to herself.

He saw the sadness in her eyes, could practically feel the angst coming off her small form. He wasn't sure if it was the right thing to do, but his instincts screamed at him that he should. He was relying on her to risk her life to get them out of there; a kiss was the least he could do for her.

Gathering her in his arms, he lightly caressed her cheek, not wanting to scare her by moving too quickly. Her chin turned up towards his face, ready for whatever he was going to give her. He kissed her then; not a passionate kiss, but one nonetheless filled with warmth. It was little more than a brush of his lips against hers, nothing romantic about it. There was no need or desire; it was little more than a peck. But when he pulled away and saw the warmth and gratitude in her eyes, he knew he had given her something special.

He also heard laughter. Not coming from the cell, though: it was outside, in the corridor. People were coming, the guards. He watched as her eyes widened in fear at the sound. It was now or never, no more talking about it. He plunged his claws into her abdomen. Not far enough to give her a hard and painful death, but deep enough so that her blood seeped out into the palm of his hand as he applied pressure to the wound and eased her to the floor. This had to look like an accident, because if it didn't and their plan didn't work, she would be taken from him.

He howled as he heard the guards stop outside his door and could practically feel their eyes on him. Turning only a little to the right, he gave them enough of a view to know something was wrong, then backed away from her as he heard the lock on the door turn, not wanting them to feel at all threatened. Yet.

~*~*~*~*~*~

She could feel the pain grow as he lowered her to the ground. The warmth of the blood pooled within her abdominal cavity and the ache almost burned. But he hadn't tried to kill her; she knew that with every ounce of strength she had. She pushed past the pain, waiting for the right moment to strike. She would be damned if she was going to let him do this on his own. She was part of the X-Men, damn it, trained by the great Wolverine himself. She had received worse while sparring and she wasn't going to stand by and let him have all the fun. These were the men who had taken everything she had and had every intention of extracting her pound of flesh. Painfully.

"Goddamn it, Creed. What the hell did you do?" she heard the guard named Wayland yell as he hit Victor with a shock of electricity from his taser. There was a thud as Victor went down; it would only be seconds before their collars were turned off.

She felt hands grab for her, preparing to hoist her up. If they took her to see that doctor, she and Victor would be lost.

Wayland's voice interrupted like a whip, "Leave her alone, damn it." There was a distinct note of panic underlying the authority in his tone, though. Apparently he didn't do too well under pressure. "That stupid doctor is passed out in his office and he won't wake up until morning."

"We can't just let her die, Way. You know what will happen to us." Another voice, somewhat younger, but just as familiar.

"Turn off her collar. Her mutation… We can make her touch Creed and turn it back on as soon as she's healed." She fought hard against the smile that tried to erupt on her face: they were falling for it. Now, if only they would hurry up and turn off Victor's -

"What the hell are you doing?" Wayland was heard yelling. She wanted to open her eyes and see what was wrong, but knew she couldn't risk it. She was supposed to be in pain, out cold. "Be careful where you point that thing! Don't turn off Creed's collar, just the girl's. He doesn't need to be active for this."

Uh-oh. Shit! She stopped thinking then, relying completely on instinct. She heard a soft click coming from her collar and the familiar buzz of her mutation return.

"Be careful how you touch her, she'll put you in a coma," Wayland warned his colleagues. Rogue took this as a sign and her eyes shot open. Jumping up before any of them could put their filthy hands on her again, she tore the collar away from her throat.

"Fuck! Tase her, damn it! Tase her!" But none were fast enough.

She moved gracefully, the voices of those in her head ringing through her as Logan's voice whispered what to do. There were five of them and as she had suspected, it was the same five who had violated her on the floor of a dirty cell, over and over again. The first man, no more than twenty-five years old, fell easily enough. She kicked him in the gut and rammed her thumbs into his eye sockets, blinding him as he doubled over.

She took down the next two just as easily. As they charged her together, she fell to the floor and punched the first hard enough that he could never hope to have another child, while neatly tripping the other so they fell into each other. She stepped on the second man's face as she ran over his body and felt his nose crunch. It gushed so much blood that she nearly slipped on it as she attacked the last two guards.

She ran to the door before they could escape, slamming it closed in their faces. As she turned to them, a smile played over her face that terrified both men to their bones. When Wayland reached for his taser, she jumped for the other man, clawing her nails into the right side of his face, feeling skin tear and blood flow as she ripped away the flesh from his eye socket to his jaw. He screamed like a baby as she turned him so she could hide behind his withering body and throw him into Wayland just as he shot his taser. The thin wires shot into the bigger man's chest, sending fifty thousand volts of electricity into his already-mangled body.

Rogue watched as the guard convulsed, white foam running from his open mouth and smiled even wider. That last shot would have killed her, but now it was just Rogue and her chief tormentor, one on one. She didn't attack Wayland as she had the others. Instead, she calmly walked toward him, absently stepping over the bodies of his fallen comrades.

She was going to enjoy this. Her only wish was that she had more time, but the pain in her abdomen was getting worse and she knew she was losing a lot of blood. Even as she reached for Wayland, her vision was becoming hazy. He cried, loudly begging for his life as she came closer. Grabbing a large handful of dark hair, she forced him to look at her and stared back into those eyes that were the same color as those of a man she'd known in another life.

Quietly, she shushed him. "I'm not going to kill you, Wayland," she whispered softly as she brought her face closer to his. "You hurt me badly, though. You took something away from me, something meant for another man. You stole it and I can never get it back."

Using her other hand, she reached for something on his belt; something she had never seen before, but knew she would recognize. The voices in her head roared as she found what she was looking for and pulled hard to break it away from his belt. Even as she tightened her grasp on the device, her eyes never left his.

"I'm not going to kill you," she repeated as he began to blubber. If she had been able to see more clearly in the dim light, she would have realized that the crotch of his pants grew dark with dampness as she spoke in her soothing voice. "I am going to return the favor. I'm going to touch you now, and when I do I'm going take you, but you'll live. In my head, you'll live. And the others who are living in here," she used the device to tap against her temple, "the voices and thoughts of my friends and enemies alike, they're going to rip you apart while I use your memories to get everyone else out of here."

Slowly, she let go of his hair to gently run her hand down his head until her skin came into contact with his face, and then she felt the pull. For the first time in too long, she felt the familiar surge as she took his essence into herself. Before, when she had wanted to give up her mutation, she had occasionally felt pangs of regret for wanting to be something – someone – other than she was. She hadn't realized how much she truly missed it before this moment. As she sucked the life out of his body, she saw him.

She saw the abuse he suffered as a child from his father, the abuse his mother had endured. The hardship of marriage to a woman didn't trust him anymore, though with good reason. She almost felt sorry for his wife, but this wasn't a moment for pity. Then the image of three happy girls flashed before her eyes: two almost white-blond, one with hair the color of a strong oak tree. They looked so much like their mother, except for their eyes; they shared their father's hazel eyes.

And then the most important information floated through her consciousness and she realized with growing hope that she and Victor had finally caught a break. There were no other guards on duty tonight, just the five of them and a doctor too drunk to open his eyes. No one was going to come down and investigate anytime soon. In fact, no one would find this mess until morning.

Most importantly, she knew exactly how to use the remote in her hand. It was filled with dozens of buttons, almost all of them useless, just in case the device fell into the wrong hands. Turning towards Victor, she pushed the one located on the bottom, the only one that would do anything, and she heard that audible click again as his collar shut down. In moments, he would be on his feet again, and then, just maybe, she would be able to succumb to the pain riding up and down her spine even as she grabbed a set of keys from one of the guards' belt.

~*~*~*~*~*~

"Can't this damn thing go any faster?" Logan demanded as he paced between the passenger seats of the jet. He was thankful that Jubilee had come along now. He would have probably already crashed by this point.

"Chill out, Wolf Man," Jubilee replied with a roll of her eyes and snap of her gum. She was dressed in leathers, just like the rest of them, with one slight alteration. She wore her yellow coat over it. Logan's eyes hurt just looking at it. "We'll be there in twenty minutes. I want to get there just as fast as you do."

"Fuck!"

~*~*~*~*~*~

She could hear the growl vibrate loudly through the room as she opened the fifth cell. There were at least thirty cells altogether, but only fourteen were occupied, including the one she shared with Victor and now that he was awake, things should go a little faster. Of course, she hadn't killed all the guards, so it was going to be another minute or so.

Pushing the iron door open wide, she stopped, shocked by the eyes that met hers. He was thinner than she remembered, probably from being locked in here for so long; they must have caught him straight out of Alcatraz. His hair was a bit longer than the last time she saw him, but his eyes were the same: pain and torment swimming in hate. The brown eyes that met hers were just as stunned.

"Pyro."


	8. disappointment and awakening

They were too late.

That was the only thought that ran through his head as the Blackbird touched the ground. The exterior of the base was completely destroyed. Only the charred ruins of walls and support beams were left behind and the fire that wiped everything else out had even darkened the ground the buildings sat on. There was nothing to look for anymore.

"All right," Logan began lowly, his right hand rubbing the bridge of his nose. Even from inside the jet, he could smell the toxic scent of the fire that had destroyed any hope he had left of finding her. He doubted there was anything still useful in the pile of rubble before them. "Angel, watch our backs from the sky. If you see any sign of anyone on their way to snoop around, let us know right away. Jubilee, stay on the jet. We don't know what we're going to find, and we might need you in case flyboy over there misses anything. Colossus, you're with me. Let's go."

The ramp opened slowly as Jubilee released the gauges and the sudden stench that met them in the cold, desert night consumed their senses. Logan automatically identified the different smells. It wasn't hard: mixed in with the odor of smoke was the sickly sweet smell of death. People had died here tonight. Logan only prayed that she wasn't among the body count as he prepared for a long search.

~*~*~*~*~*~

He heard the sound of boots crunching through gravel that had once been a wall. As Logan looked up, it became clear by the look on the younger man's face that the news wasn't good.

"Logan, I think you should come look at this," Colossus said solemnly as he pointed to an area he had just inspected. "I believe I have found where they were kept."

He only nodded as he stood and followed the boy about a quarter of a mile east. Logan knew right away that this area was different somehow. Although there were signs of a fire, the debris wasn't as shattered here, and the smell of smoke wasn't as strong. Logan wasn't sure if it was because this was where the fire had started or ended. Considering that there were mutants here, it could have gone either way. One thing was for sure: the stench of death was stronger. Whatever Colossus had found couldn't be good.

Smack dab in the middle of a partially burned floor was a trap door. Judging by the rough map in his possession, Logan guessed that the room above it was a lab. If the mutants were kept here, it would make for convenient transport.

As he knelt and opened the door, Logan's sense of smell was assaulted by the stench of blood. It was still weak, though, almost as if the scent was being blocked somehow.

"What do we do now, my friend?" Colossus asked carefully as they both peered down into a poorly lit stairwell. "Do you want me to call the others?"

"No. If anyone is still alive, we'll take care of it. But you might want to suit up before we head down." Colossus had stayed in his human form the entire time they had been searching, not wanting to unnecessarily use up too much energy. But now, as Logan watched, he flexed his muscles, turning into the living metal he was known for. If things got interesting, at least Logan knew he would have some back up.

They traveled down a single flight of stairs before coming to another door. It was the only one, and the stairs ended almost directly at its frame. Shifting into a defensive stance before opening the door, Logan and Colossus both prepared themselves for whatever was on the other side. One sniff confirmed Logan's suspicions. Whatever death was lingering in the air, it was hiding behind this door.

Slowly pushing the slab of steel open, Logan peered in. Blood was everywhere; a lot of it. The room was just as poorly lit as the hall, but Logan could see clearly enough. It was built almost like a warehouse, with one long line of cell doors down one side and nothing but a brick wall down the other. Every door was wide open, and it was easy to tell which cells had been occupied by the excrement that sat in the metal toilets.

Half way down the hall, Logan stopped abruptly. The scent had been mingled with so many others that he hadn't recognized it at first, but now, standing in front of it, there was no denying it. Turning towards it, Logan realized that it was one of the few doors that hadn't been left standing open, although it was cracked. Pushing on it, the door swung easily enough. Logan stepped back for a second, taking in the scene before him.

Five bodies were thrown into a haphazard pile in the middle of the small cell. All wore uniforms that were military in appearance but obviously standard issue for guards. There was no dignity or respect in the way they lay. It resembled the way a careless child would leave a doll after some grotesque mutilation. Logan noticed that one of the bodies had his eyes gouged out, while another appeared to have had his nose ground into his skull and was missing an arm.

But that wasn't what drew him to this room. Over the stench of death coming off the bodies and the pool of blood that had spread across the floor, Logan had caught another two scents. Both were as familiar to him as his own.

He knew he wasn't mistaken as he walked further inside; he could smell Rogue in the entire room. But it wasn't just Rogue, it was the sweet, coppery smell of her blood that lingered. She had bled in here, profusely.

It was the other scent that helped him piece the rest together, though: the scent of an animal. Victor Creed had also been trapped in this cell, and Logan could only to easily envision what had happened.

The guards might have thrown her into this cell with Victor for some sort of amusement, but when it became apparent that he was going to hurt her, they came in to stop him, only to lose their lives to the giant animal.

Still, Logan couldn't quite make sense of two things. Why would Creed have helped the rest of the mutants escape? He was an uncaring bastard who thought little of life. Why would he go out of his way to open the rest of the cells when he didn't know what was waiting for him up top? And, where was Rogue's body? There was no sign of it anywhere. Could Creed or one of the other mutants have taken it with them?

None of it made any sense in his head, but Logan couldn't see any other way it would have worked. Unless, of course, Rogue had died after helping the others escape. The guards may have cornered her into a trap with Creed, who would have relished killing her. Logan wouldn't put it past him to have taken her body, either. There were so many possible scenarios, so many little details that could have changed the story dramatically, but Logan was sure of the outcome of each one.

"Logan?" He had heard the man approach, but was too lost in thought to care. Turning, he saw the horrified look on the gentle giant's face, and knew that he was having a hard time stomaching the scene before him. Logan hoped that the boy wouldn't lose his innocence.

He turned, closing the door behind him. There was no point in wasting any more time here. There was nothing more to find.

"She's dead, Colossus. We can go home now."

A little further down the corridor, hidden deep within the shadows, lay a small, useless remote control, covered in the blood and sweat of a young woman who risked everything for the chance to escape.

~*~*~*~*~*~

She was dead. She had to be. She could feel the soft texture of sheets under her body, and the warmth of a thick blanket over her. She refused to open her eyes for fear that she would find she truly was dead or that the warmth comfort she was incased in was only a delusion and she was still back in that small cell with Victor.

The last thing she remembered before passing out as Victor carried her into the night was telling Pyro not to torch everything. She told him to leave the cells. That way whoever found it would know that people were kept down there. With any luck, it would be someone who actually cared.

She opened her eyes slowly as realization dawned. They had made it out alive, and obviously, one of them had found a safe place for everyone.

Her mind began to wander, processing everything she remembered. Victor had joined her and helped her open the rest of the cells after making sure that all of the guards were dead. She had definitely killed one. Wayland. She could only assume that the other voices in her head had pushed him back as far as they could. She could only faintly hear him.

She knew that if it weren't for touching him, she wouldn't have made it as far as she had. Taking his life force, his energy, was what had given her the push to continue. Otherwise, she probably would have passed out from blood loss before opening the first door. It was interesting to learn that her mutation worked that way, but it wasn't something she felt like dwelling on. It wasn't important.

And then she opened Pyro's cell, and that was a shock. She hadn't known he was there; had no idea, really, but she realized then that she had missed him.

And then Victor had been there, by her side, urging them on and hurrying to make sure no one was left behind. Once all the doors were open, he had opened the door at the far end of the corridor. A stairwell was the only thing on the other side.

Making their way to the top, and eventually to freedom, Victor had found a rather large lab coat that he forced her to wear before he picked her up and carried her the rest of the way out. She hadn't yet had an opportunity to see the others they had saved, but that didn't really matter. She knew that Victor had made sure they all made it. She trusted him not to have left anyone behind.

She finally began to realize that she wasn't seeing everything through her own mind's eye, though. She remembered what she had done to the doctors and how she had completely torn off the arm of the man whose cheek she had clawed open. There was a slight disappointment that she had already killed Wayland, but just as quickly, she accepted it.

She wasn't just seeing these events from her own cache of memories, but also through the ones she had gained by touching Victor. She just didn't know when that had happened. Closing her eyes, she concentrated with her entire body, filing away the memories of both Victor and Wayland. She tried not to notice any of them, instead concentrating on her own and the good points in her life. It was depressing to note how few there really were.

"You need a shower, child." Rogue jumped at the voice. She hadn't been aware that someone was in the room with her, hadn't caught her scent. Of course, it also made sense that the woman she was looking at might own the place. "At least you're awake, though. Welcome back to the land of the living."

She wasn't sure what to say. The woman before her looked ordinary enough; blond hair the color of straw, dark brown eyes. No visible mutation. Was she a sympathetic human who was trying to help? Or was she like the rest of them? Was she able to blend in as long as no one looked twice or paid too much attention?

"Who are you?" she asked wearily. Rogue was strong enough to fight, if need be, but that didn't mean she wanted to.

"Oh, yes. You wouldn't recognize me. Not like this." The woman smiled sweetly, her eyes lightening at the same time. It was a small change, but there was nothing subtle about it as the dark brown quickly turned into a glowing yellow. Rogue instantly jumped from the bed, her body easily falling into a defensive stance. She had no idea what was going on, but considering who was involved, it couldn't be good. "Calm down, Rogue. There is no reason for you to act like this. There's no threat."

"Sorry if I'm having a hard time believing you right now, Mystique. Where's Victor?" Although she was calm on the outside, Rogue felt everything within her shiver in anticipation. She knew there was no way she could win a fight with the shape shifter. She had been through too much already and her training wasn't advanced enough, so she did the next best thing. She screamed, "VICTOR!"

The door burst open within seconds of her cry for help, but it wasn't Victor who came in. It was another person that sent chills racing up and down her spine at the sight of him. In all the commotion, she had completely forgotten that he could very well be here, and now he was standing before her.

Pyro looked just as shocked as she felt, but for an obviously different reason. He looked between the two women, his face twisting into an angry grimace. "Victor asked you to stay out of here until he was able to speak to her, Mystique. What are you doing?"

Mystique sighed heavily, exasperated. "I didn't intend any harm to the girl, John. I just wanted to make sure she was all right and to see if she would like fresh clothes and a shower. She is a girl; she may not want to sit around in her own stink for too long."

Rogue felt her ears twitch at the thought of a shower. It had been a damn long time since she had felt the luxury and she could only imagine what her scent did to everyone else.

"Besides, the poor thing is filthy and has been sleeping in my bed for the last twelve hours. I would like to change the linen while she's indisposed," Mystique finished as her pride shone through her lifted chin.

Rogue wasn't quite sure what to think, but she had a feeling that Mystique wasn't a threat that she needed to worry about. For now, anyway. Besides, Rogue was willing to make a deal with the Devil himself to get into a bathroom. She already had it calculated in her head: 20 minutes in the shower to wash away all of the grime and stink, then an hour in a bath to soak her muscles and another quick shower to rinse off.

Mystique smiled affectionately as Rogue let her shoulders relax. "The door to the bathroom is right behind you, Rogue. Use what you want and take your time. Come down when you're ready. There are some people here who would like to speak to you."

Rogue nodded slowly, before turning around and leaving Pyro and Mystique glaring at each other.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Rogue easily found her way to the living room after she put on the fresh clothes Mystique had laid out for her. Although the green t-shirt was a little tight and the bra was a size too small, the black jeans felt tight and loose in all the right places. There was even a pair of shoes that fit well. After slipping them on, she opened the door leading out of the room and followed the sounds of hushed voices. It seemed that Victor's mutations had yet to wear off.

~*~*~*~*~*~

There were no real introductions made after Rogue found her way to the living room. A group of people sat around the coffee table, deep in discussion. The only faces that she recognized were Mystique and Pyro, but one of the men seemed eerily familiar. She didn't know him, but there was something about the set of his jaw and the line of his nose that tickled at her memory.

She watched them closely for a minute, memorizing their faces and their voices, along with their specific scents. Sitting to the right of Mystique was an older blind woman who was gently tracing small patterns on Mystique's jean-clad knee as she paid close attention. Her scent was welcoming and warm. She smelled of cooking and cleanliness and pride. Her back seemed to straighten when Rogue walked in, but other than that, she gave no indication that they were being watched.

To her left was the man that Rogue felt she must know somehow. Blond, broad-shouldered and young – probably younger than her – he had blue eyes and bronzed skin. He looked like the human incarnation of the term 'Golden Boy'. Even his scent was familiar, but she couldn't figure out how.

Next to him sat a woman who was probably in her mid- to late twenties, another blonde. From her angle, Rogue could just make out the color of her right eye, the most vivid green she had ever seen. Her scent reminded Rogue of clouds and strength. She was familiar too, but at least this time, Rogue knew from where. She had been locked in one of the cells Rogue had opened and had helped everyone remove their collars.

There were three more people, two men and one woman. One sat with his back to her next to Pyro. They seemed to be involved in their own deep discussion, only adding their input every now and then. All she could see was the brownish red of his hair. His scent brought sulfur to mind as he spoke with a thick, Cajun accent.

The woman was a bit older, maybe in her thirties. She appeared to be Asian and spoke with a British accent. Her eyes were too dark to tell if they were brown or black, and her hair was long and thick, a beautiful deep purple. Her scent was strange, too: deadly and menacing, but almost as if it didn't fit with the body it was attached to. Every now and then, her eyes would dart to the spot where Rogue stood, but like the blind woman, she said nothing.

The last man looked to be about her age. Tall and lanky, he was constantly in motion, whether tapping his fingers on his knee or nervously twitching his foot. His hair was white as snow, and his eyes were a crystal blue. He too was familiar, and her thoughts grew dark as she realized why. He looked just as she suspected Magneto had in his youth. Judging by the company he kept, it was entirely possible they were related.

And of course, Victor was nowhere in sight. He was probably still upstairs in one of the many bedrooms, healing. It was obvious that his abilities hadn't left her yet. Would he awaken when they faded away?

Mystique stood suddenly, beaming the fake smile of the blond that had greeted her when she first awoke. Rogue couldn't help but wonder why she still wore the disguise. It wasn't as if the house wasn't full of other mutants. Were some of these people unaware of who she was?

"Why don't we finish this discussion later? Rogue, would you like something to eat? I was beginning to wonder when you would make your way down."

Rogue felt her cheeks redden as everyone turned their attention to her, including the man who originally had his back to her. She gasped when his eyes caught hers. They were red on black, marking him as the only visible mutant in the room, and there was no mistaking the lustful interest in the depths of those eyes.

Sneering in disgust, Rogue turned and walked away from the group. She was perfectly aware of the man with the demon eyes moving silently behind her as she made her way towards the kitchen and the smell of food.


	9. threats and stories

"And there was no body?" Storm asked softly after the others had cleared out of the briefing room with plans to hit the showers and their beds. By the time they had returned to the mansion, it was early morning and all he had to show for it was a few partial files on a couple of the captive mutants and a computer that may or may not contain any useful information, assuming someone could get it to work.

"No body, Storm. Just a lot of blood." Logan raked a hand through his hair, ignoring the finality of her tone.

"And you believe she's dead?" Storm could see the doubt in his eyes and noted the way his hands shook as he fidgeted with the cigar that he still hadn't chewed on, much less lit since walking into the room. She wasn't at all surprised by his answer.

"Yeah… at first," Logan whispered, his voice trailing off as his mind whirled back to what else they had found. There had been traces of her blood along the corridor and outside a couple of the other cells as well, but that could have gotten there any number of ways. It didn't necessarily mean that it was her hand that had smeared that blood. "But it makes no sense, why would there be no body; unless she got out of there with the others. Even if she escaped, there should have been some kind of sign, but the trail's cold, like everyone was picked up. But if she is alive, why hasn't she gotten in touch with me yet?"

Storm nodded shortly, understanding his confusion. None of this made sense to her, either. "What happens now?"

Logan sighed, finally placing the cigar in his mouth. It was as if he was coming to his conclusions even as he filled her in on his plans. "We find Sabretooth. Dead or alive, he would at least have an idea. Plus, his wasn't the only familiar scent that I found there."

Storm tensed at the news, unsure of what to expect. If these people had been able to get their hands on someone as powerful as Sabretooth, they could have grabbed just about anyone. "Who else was there, Logan?"

"Pyro. And if anyone would feel obligated to keep her alive, it would be him." Logan pulled the cigar out of his mouth again and began to pace the room. It was obvious he was unsure about the thoughts that were forming in his head, but they were the only straws he had at the moment. If neither of those people knew where she was, then he would be back to square one.

"Are you sure about this, Logan?" She wasn't as optimistic as Logan that Pyro's sentimentality was as strong as he wanted to believe.

He shrugged, rolling his shoulders to release some of his tension. "To be perfectly honest, Storm, I'm not to sure about anything right now."

She didn't think he was. She forced her eyes to meet his, seeing the pain and anger behind them. The anguish that was there was almost impossible to tolerate, but she had to ask before things went too much farther. Fearful of his response, she had a feeling she already knew what his answer would be. "And what happens if they tell you she's dead?"

"Then I'll kill them both," Logan replied seriously, his eyes flashing with hatred. "I'll make them both suffer. Rogue was in that cell with Sabretooth for who knows how long. He could have done anything he wanted to her and he's sadistic enough to have done it all. I wouldn't be surprised if he killed her to get the hell out of there."

~*~*~*~*~*~

She sat at the small kitchen island, quietly eating her sandwich and trying hard not to listen to the group behind her. A few of the others had followed her into the kitchen just after Mystique left, claiming the need to check on a few things. Those sitting at the table a few feet behind her - the blond woman, the man with the strange eyes, and the one who couldn't sit still - spoke in hushed voices, obviously trying to keep her from overhearing. Of course, with the consequences of Sabretooth's touch still in evidence, she couldn't help but overhear.

"So when did you find out you were a mutant, Pietro?" the blond woman asked. Rogue was beginning to wish she had been introduced, or at least given a list of names to choose from. It might have made things a little simpler.

"When I was small. I knew I was fast, but it wasn't until I was about twelve that I realized just how fast." It had to be the man with the white hair talking. Although he seemed to have traces of a European accent, Rogue was positive the other, the one with the strange eyes, was Southern. "My sister and I were raised by Gypsies in a little country called Transia, just south of the Transylvanian border. Things became very hard for our people when we were about 12 or 13. My father began to steal little bits of food from a few of the more prosperous villagers and farmers to feed us. Of course, he never took from anyone who couldn't afford the loss, but a thief is a thief either way.

"Anyway, the villagers came for us in the night, blood in their eyes. My sister's mutation was a little more obvious than mine and she wasn't adept at controlling it yet, so they already knew that besides being Gypsy, she was also different. We awoke to the commotion outside. My parents pushed us out of a window and into the darkness. They knew that the villagers wouldn't stop until blood was shed, so they made me promise that I would run as fast as possible. I picked up Wanda and did what they asked, not stopping until we were well into Romania."

Pietro paused for a moment, and Rogue wondered if he was going to continue. She wondered what had happened to Wanda, but it was a few more seconds before he began again.

"Wanda and I lived there for a few years, careful not to get close to anyone or stay in one place too long. We were both afraid of what could happen, especially if people discovered Wanda's hexing abilities. But we both spent this time learning about our abilities and gaining control. It was during this time that Wanda accidentally set a barn on fire. No one was injured, but the owners were not happy at all. They came again, brandishing pitchforks and looking for blood. Wanda was too afraid to use her abilities and I wasn't able to find enough room to squeeze through the mob to use mine. But, just when we thought we were going to die, we were saved by another mutant named Erik Lehnsherr."

Rogue narrowed her eyes at the name, her shoulders stiffening. She waited to hear more, wondering why Magneto would go out of his way to save two children that shouldn't have meant anything to him.

"It wasn't until much later that Wanda and I found out that we were actually his children. It seemed that the man and woman whom we thought were our parents had been asked to raise us by our mother, Magda. She had lost our sister in a fire before and hadn't realized she was pregnant with us until afterwards. After that, he showed us the potential we held. He helped us develop our mutations and helped Wanda gain her much needed control. I lost contact with both after my father made his attempt at the Statue of Liberty. I was here talking to Mystique when we got the call from Sabretooth to come get you. Mystique said that he was responsible for the attack at Alcatraz, but she's trying to get more information from a few of her sources. Pyro says that he's not sure what happened after he was knocked out."

"What about you, _chère_? What happened to you when you manifested?" the Cajun asked. Rogue could hear the sweetness dripping from his voice and felt as if she was going to puke. Was he really making a pass the day after they got out of captivity?

Rogue didn't move, assuming that because he was still talking in a hushed whisper, he had to be speaking to the blond. Of course, she was proven right when she heard the other woman scoff at his come on.

"The name is Carol, not _chère_. Lieutenant Carol Danvers of the United States Air Force - well, formerly of the USAF," Carol quickly corrected herself. Rogue wondered about that. She could bet that Carol had been dishonorably discharged after revealing her mutantcy. "And it's pretty simple. I discovered my abilities when I was 14 years old. I had taken my parents' tractor for a spin and parked it in a ditch. I was about five miles from home and it was getting dark fast. I couldn't leave it there and I knew my parents were going to be upset. I tried everything I could think of. After awhile, I got frustrated and punched it. I dented the side and pushed it out at the same time. I picked it up and took it home. After that, I found out that I could fly and that I was invulnerable to mostly anything."

"And what did your parents say?" Pietro asked. Rogue could hear the suspicion in his voice and wondered what his adoptive parents had said at first.

It was a moment before Carol said anything and Rogue found herself prepared for the worst. It was what she had gotten, wasn't it? "They said that it was alright; that I shouldn't be afraid, just cautious."

Rogue could hear the smile in her voice as she spoke and felt her stomach churn. "Momma said that she always knew that I was something special and she wasn't really all that surprised. But special or not, I was still grounded for a week for taking the tractor. They helped me get a better grasp of my abilities after that. The flying was the best though. It's what helped me decide on the Air Force when I got out of high school. Of course, when they found out about my mutation, I was given a leave of absence to take care of it with the cure. So I went to take it and the next thing I knew, I had a collar slapped around my neck and was being thrown into the back of a truck.

"And what about you, Remy?" Carol demanded, diverting attention from herself. "What was it like for you when you became a mutant?"

"Ah _chère_, we don't become mutants, we born mutants. You should know that by now." Remy chuckled at his own wit while Rogue rolled her eyes. At least she had the names of three of them. "Remy be born in Louisiana, raised in New Orleans. My daddy was Jean-Luc LeBeau. He wasn't my real daddy, _non_, but he took me in and gave me a real home: food, clothes, and the best education that Remy could hope for. He taught me how to be a thief and put me in with the Thieves' Guild. Remy got good at that real quick, my brother, too. I was called _le diable blanc_, the White Devil, due to my eyes."

Carol snickered again, "Are you sure it wasn't because of your charming personality?"

"The ladies down south, ain't none complained when Remy picked their pockets, _petite_." Remy paused, letting both women absorb that. Although he liked to flirt with the blond at his side, he felt his eyes keep wandering to the brunette sitting alone. He knew she was deliberately eating her food slowly, listening in on their tales and wondered what her story was, if she had it rough like a few of the others. He wasn't even sure what her mutation really was; Victor had refused to let anyone else near her. She was an enigma that would be fun to try to figure out.

"Now, the Thieves' Guild had a longtime rival, the Assassins. It was up to Remy to take his brother through the Tithing, the ritual that we all have to complete before we can become members. The Assassins attacked us that night. Remy made sure his brother escaped, but this Gambit not so lucky. The Assassins, they sold me to that lab the _chère_ over there got us out of. Remy can't help but wonder what her story be."

"Rogue has no story, Remy." She didn't need to turn around to know who this new voice belonged to. She knew it well. She had laughed and fought with him many times over the years, both in person and in her head. "Rogue is just there, wandering around, blissfully unaware of what she is and the power she could have. I know many mutants who would kill for her abilities. Including your father, Pietro."

"Stuff it, John. You don't know anything about me," Rogue growled before she could stop herself. She refused to turn around and look at them, at him, specifically. She had once considered this man a friend, but even then he hadn't known much about her. If she was honest with herself, no one really did. She hadn't even told Logan about what had transpired after her mutation manifested.

"Is that the only name you be giving Remy, _chère_?" the Cajun asked with a sly smile.

Rogue swiveled her stool to glare at the man. "That be the only name Remy be needing, Swamp Rat. And you, John, need to stay the hell out of my way and out of my life. I didn't ask to come here and I really didn't expect to see you. If I had been in my right mind, I would have left you in that place to rot like the traitor you are."

"You went to take the cure, for no one but yourself and your ice boy. Who's the traitor, Rogue?" No one moved as the two former schoolmates stared each other down. It was obvious the two had a history between them, and no one else in the room felt the need to try and calm them down, so no one spoke.

Rogue smirked, her eyes icy as she stood from her stool, wanting to be on firmer ground in case he attacked. "At least I didn't abandon my friends in a broken down plane in the snow to follow a lunatic on a pointless crusade."

"The survival of mutantkind is not a pointless crusade, Rogue -"

"It's the most important work we will do. We are Gods among insects…" Rogue interrupted, continuing to mimic Magneto's speech. "You really think you're the first student he tried to recruit from the school? Are you really that naïve? Magneto would have killed for my abilities, right? What do you think he wanted from me if I had survived his machine on that damn statue?" She ignored the gasp that came from Pietro. Obviously, he hadn't realized whom he was keeping company with, or the precarious position he found himself in. "Do you really think I wanted to go through that again? Another Wacko with a machine only his abilities could control? You have no idea what the hell I've been through, John, so back the fuck off."

"Then why don't you tell us?" John asked quickly as he took a seat at the table with the other three, trapping her into the conversation. "Why don't you share who you were when your abilities manifested."

"Because I don't think it's really any of your damn business," Rogue replied, her eyes narrow. She walked out of the room without a backward glance.

~*~*~*~*~*~

She walked past Mystique and the blind woman sitting in the living room, ignoring their presence as she made her way back up the stairs. She wondered how long she was going to be allowed to stay here, and if she really wanted to. Was she willing to pay the price?

Rogue didn't notice the pair of eyes following her. She hadn't realized that Mystique had noticed her. And, even with her acute hearing, her mind had been too clouded for her to realize what the two women were planning.

"Are you sure about this, Destiny?" Mystique asked slowly when she knew Rogue was completely out of the room. "Can we truly trust her?"

"For now, yes," the blind woman replied softly. "She will be a great asset, if taken care of properly. She's the one to lead this team. I've said that for years. She's stronger than she appears, that should have been obvious when she survived that machine Erik put her in. Given the chance, she will make a greater impact than Magneto and Xavier combined."

"But whose life will she take?" Mystique asked quickly. She didn't want to be overheard by any of the others. "And which path will she choose?"

"All I know is that someone will not survive her touch, and it will be a great test for her. As for the path, well, that depends on the influences around her."


	10. breaking the news and asking for help

Agent Savannah Danvers sat back in her chair, her beer left untouched as her companion nursed his own.

He had called her once he had taken a shower and thought of what he was going to tell her, agreeing on a place and time to meet. He tried to tell her everything over the phone, but she refused to listen. She insisted that she wanted to hear any news in person. That was about sixteen hours ago. It was now eight in the evening and they were sitting in a bar a few miles from the school. Danvers had insisted on coming to him. It gave him more time to get his head on straight.

"The place was empty," he said quickly, knowing that it was best to get this kind of news over with." It looked like there was an escape at least an hour before we arrived."

"Was there any evidence of anything at all?" She wouldn't be specific, but Logan knew what she was asking. Was there any sign of her sister?

He sighed, reaching into the backpack at his feet and handing her a partially charred manila folder. "The entire site was destroyed. There was a firebug held captive there, so it's easy to assume that he set fire to the place shortly after they made their escape. We were able to recover a few things; a couple of hard-copy files and a computer that may or may not have something useful on it. I have someone working on it right now.

"This file was all that I found on your sister. Her name is in there, along with her abilities and what I think were the scientist's intentions for her. Unless she was transferred just before the escape, I think she made it out of there alive. The only bodies that we found were employees."

"Then why hasn't she contacted me or anyone else?" The detective mused, not taking her eyes off the folder in her hands. "She would have at least called our parents by now."

"I suggest you take some time off and go home to your family. I couldn't say what's going on, but if she's as close to your family as you claim, she'll call." Logan stood to leave, laying a couple of dollars on the table for the waitress. He paused for a second as he reached down for his backpack. "Do me a favor, though. If you do hear from your sister, ask her about Rogue for me. You have my cell."

She tore her eyes away from the folder long enough to meet his. The pain in them was unmistakable and Savannah had to wonder about how much the strong man before her was hurting for him to be showing any of it. "She's didn't make it, did she?"

He knew who she was talking about, and felt his bones chill. He saw different things in his mind as he thought about which answer to give her: flashes of blood and bodies, scents that should never have been combined. "I don't know. When I first got there ... There was a lot of blood and - the others are going to hold a service for her in a few days. Try to say goodbye and move on. I'm going to keep an ear open, though. Just call."

His back tense and shoulders hunched, he turned before she could ask another question, before walking out of the bar and disappearing.

~*~*~*~*~*~

She had allowed her thoughts to engross her, trying to determine what she could glean from the thoughts and memories of the other personalities trapped in her head. But now that she was finally safe and able to concentrate, she found that her mind would only focus on one important detail: the fact that she had killed a man.

It was true that he had been one of her rapists, and yes, he had deserved everything that had happened, but it didn't change the fact that she had killed him. She had used her abilities to take his life.

And it scared her to know that while she felt no remorse at all, there was a definite pleasure attached to the memory of the act.

"What do you want, Mystique?" Rogue asked loudly, catching the scent of the woman who lingered outside the door.

It opened slowly, the shape-shifter entering quietly. Rogue glanced at the window to her left, realizing that it was now well past dark. Sitting up and looking over, it was a surprise to find the older woman was now in her normal skin . Rogue shuddered slightly as she sat on the bed next to her.

Someone had changed the bedspreads while Rogue had been in the shower; fresh linens the color of lilacs had replaced the white down that had initially covered the bed." I hope you don't mind that I confiscated your room."

Mystique smiled slowly, a smile that should have been warm, but only came off as cold and sinister. "Not at all. I've moved into another room down the hall. I thought that with everything you've been through lately, you should have your own space. Victor told me what happened in that place, though, Rogue. And, I just wanted you to know that if you need to talk about it, I will listen."

"What do you care about what happened to me?" Rogue asked with a sarcastic laugh. "This isn't just another way to get me to join Magneto's Brotherhood, now is it? Because I'll put that old hospital gown back on and walk out of here barefoot if it is."

"Actually, I am no longer affiliated with Magneto. Neither is anyone here," Mystique responded slowly. "He abandoned me when I gave up something precious for him. And let's just say that he has opened my eyes to the type of monster he really is."

Rogue paused for a moment, trying to decide if what Mystique said was true or not. "What did you give up?"

"My mutation," Mystique replied quietly. "It was when he rescued me from that damn moving prison. We were releasing the others on board when one of the guards tried to shoot him with that damn cure. I stepped in the way and took it for him. He left me there. Later, after I was apprehended, I was given amnesty for all of the information I could give on Magneto's plans. About three weeks later, my abilities began to come back."

"So, if you took the cure ... Then it's not permanent?" Rogue asked slowly, realization dawning on her. "And if I had actually been given the cure, it would have worn off and I could have hurt someone."

"It would have been a disaster," Mystique replied with a shrug. "But I did want to apologize for what Magneto put you through on the statue. I honestly thought that he was right, that your sacrifice was for a worthy cause. I am sorry for that, and I know that I don't deserve your forgiveness, but ..."

"You're right. You don't deserve it," Rogue replied, glaring at the other woman. "And I'm not offering it. I'm sorry, Mystique, but you almost let that man kill me up there. I can't forgive for that."

"I understand," Mystique replied slowly, her shoulders tensing. Maybe Irene had been right. Maybe Mystique should have given the girl more time. "And, like I said, I am not asking for your forgiveness. What I am asking for is some help. The mutants in this city ... They need protection. There is no safe place to go and no one to watch out for them. They need someone who will make sure that they are kept safe. Most of the mutants here are runaways. Children and adults both, whose families didn't want them, and since this is a tourist town, the only jobs really offered to the mutants, are in freak shows in the casino."

"And what do you want me to do about it, Mystique," Rogue hissed. "I'm not a superhero, not anymore. I gave up that life when I decided to do something for myself and not the team."

Mystique leaned forward, her eyes holding fast to Rogue's. "No one here knows how to be a hero. Not like you. Carol was in the air force, but I can't expect her to stay. She hasn't kept it a secret that she has a family who might be looking for her, and even if she didn't, she's not a born leader like you. Victor told me of the sacrifice you made to not only get him and yourself out of that hell, but the others too. You could have died, and would have if he hadn't healed you. Carol has a special power. She has an invulnerability that keeps her from getting hurt. Kind of like a healing power. If she had cut herself open, it would have healed just as quickly as if it had been Victor. He told me everything that you survived, and what it took for you to stay in that cell with him when all you knew about him was what Wolverine had told you. Anyone else would have tried to kill themselves but you followed your gut and stayed."

"Then what about the others? You have your pick. I did the superhero thing before, and look where it got me. If you want a superhero team so bad, then why don't you lead it? Why not Pyro? He lived at that mansion too, and he was there a lot longer than I was," Rogue yelled, not caring who over heard her.

"The others can't do it, not like you can. Pyro wasn't on the team at all. The only training he really has is with his mutation, and even that's minimal. He has no combat training whatsoever. Magneto made damn sure of that." Mystique let her shoulders relax, her voice softening as she spoke. "As for the others ... Well, none of them have the experience of working with a team like you do. You know how to pair people's mutations to compliment each other. You can point out weaknesses and strengths. You've done this before. This town, these people need you. It's not like it was in New York. People here aren't just targeting mutants. Anyone who helps a mutant is put on a list. People of all kinds are dying."

"Tell me about the others, then," Rogue said slowly, her mind wrapping around all that Mystique had said. "And what town are we in, anyway? I wasn't awake when you came into the picture, remember?"

"Does this mean you'll do it?" Mystique asked hopefully, her eyes wide with hope. Rogue wondered if this was the most vulnerable Mystique had allowed herself to be in a long time.

"I didn't say that," Rogue said bitterly. "I'll consider it, though."

"Well, first off, we're in Las Vegas ..." Mystique spent the next few hours telling Rogue what she knew of the others, explained abilities. She told her of what was happening in the city, and of the desperation. When she finished, Rogue noticed that the sky was beginning to turn pink. The sun was rising.

"I'll need time to think this through. It's a lot that you're asking me for, and I'm not sure I'm really what you're looking for." Rogue wouldn't look away from the window, instead enjoying the way the sky slowly lightened as the minutes slowly ticked by. She hadn't allowed herself to admit it back in the cell, but she had been very sure that she would never see another sunrise again. "But I'll let you know."

Mystique only nodded slightly, standing from the bed and moving slowly to the bedroom door.

Rogue let her reach the door before asking a question that had been gnawing at the back of her mind all night. "Why would Victor tell you what happened to me when we were in there?"

Mystique paused, not sure what to do. She could keep walking out the door, but Rogue would probably find the truth anyway. She turned, looking at the other woman, hoping that she wouldn't judge her for what she was going to tell her. "Victor and I don't keep anything from each other."

Rogue felt a lump grow in her throat at the intimacy in Mystique's voice. "Are you lovers?"

"We were, once, a long time ago. We have a son together," Mystique paused for a second, unsure of what Rogue's reaction would be." His name is Graydon Creed. He's the district attorney here. He's also the founder of a group of _homo sapiens_ known as the Friends Of Humanity. They're a group of people who believe in the persecution and extermination of all mutants."

"Your son ... He's normal?" Rogue asked slowly, realizing that things might be even more twisted than Mystique was telling her. "And he's a mutant-hater?"

"Yes ... And I need you to kill him."


	11. a funeral and a revelation

He watched from the shadows as the rest of the school held their farce of a memorial service. Just like with the others, there was no body to be buried and no casket. Only a cold slab of rock with one word engraved across it: ROGUE. That was it. There were no poem, no parting words, not even an epitaph - nothing to symbolize who she was. There weren't even any dates to measure her life.

Logan wondered briefly if any of the others had known anything about the girl whose memory they were laying to rest. He doubted it. It seemed as if most of the people there were just waiting for the end of the ceremony Ororo was conducting. Rogue hadn't truly been one of them. A few had accepted her into the fold, but it was more as a beloved pet than an equal. Even the boyfriend was so busy holding hands with another girl, Logan doubted he heard a word. He felt the deep rumble in his chest building as he watched this mockery.

He waited until they were finished and watched with little interest as most of the so-called mourners headed back inside the mansion for lunch. There were a few that stayed behind - four, to be exact. Ororo stood to the side, watching the rest of the school retreat from the memorial site. Logan knew that her emotions were genuine. The guilt had eaten at her when he had told her what they had found in Nevada. Her eyes no longer held the playful wisdom she had once been known for and her whole presence seemed to have aged overnight.

"Logan?" He turned in the direction the soft question had come from to where the others still sat, staring at the slab of concrete. He wasn't surprised to find Piotr and Jubilee talking quietly. He could almost make out what they were saying, but didn't think the extra effort was needed.

Warren sat just to the right of Jubilee, openly watching him, his eyes locked on his face. He had questions and needed to talk. Logan had a feeling that he would be the one to have to do it.

Logan slowly sat beside the winged man, chewing on the end of the cigar he had popped into his mouth midway through the ceremony. "You want to talk about it, kid?"

Warren sighed, his eyes finally darting away. He was uncomfortable, but Logan was used to that. He made a lot of people uncomfortable. "I didn't know her, but I feel like I should be here, and even my sadness seems much deeper than some of those who were supposed to have been close to her. She wasn't a bad person, was she? I mean those two seem deeply affected by it, and even Storm…"

"She wasn't a bad person at all, Warren," Logan rumbled lowly as his shoulders slumped. He watched Storm finally turn and head for the mansion, her shoulders hunched in defeat. "She was… She was very protective of herself, and it wasn't easy to get close to her. But when she did let you in, she was one of the best people around here."

"You two were close, weren't you?" Warren hadn't asked any questions when he had been told he would accompany Logan on the search. He had only assumed that Logan was going out of the sense of duty a teacher has for his students. This was beyond duty, though. Warren could sense the commitment, and he wondered if Logan would be so forceful if it were anyone else.

"Yes. She's the reason I came back after leaving the first time," Logan began, his eyes glazing over with the memory of that first goodbye. He sighed deeply, trying to find the words to tell this young man of the woman Rogue had been. "We understood each other, more than anyone else here. You have your groups and such, but there's nothing here that was anything like us. We reminded each other that we were human and not unwanted trash. There were so many people who were afraid of us: me because, well, I like it that way, and her because of her mutation. There weren't too many people around who tried to help her feel normal, even her boyfriend. So she's pretty distant from most."

"You don't think she's dead," Warren said suddenly. Logan's eyes snapped to the boy, understanding that he was being studied. "You think she's alive, don't you?"

Logan realized that Jubilee and Piotr had suddenly stopped talking. They were both looking at him now, awaiting his answer. He could see the hope in Jubilee's eyes, though Piotr was slightly better at keeping his emotions hidden. He only hoped that this wouldn't crush them further. "No, I don't. It doesn't add up, and it's been gnawing at me since we got back. Let's look at what we know: she went to get the cure, but was taken to this place in Nevada instead, where they were experimenting on mutants. Meaning, she still has her abilities. We were assuming that the people who held her had to find some way of keeping her mutation suppressed. We found out yesterday that we were right.

"That computer that we retrieved had information on a collar built to suppress the mutant gene and any active abilities, not including those mutations that could be identified as physical traits. Meaning, while the collar would work on suppressing my healing factor, it wouldn't work on my claws or my senses."

"Wow…" Jubilee said slowly, her eyes widening in surprise. "I didn't realize you were such a computer expert!"

"Actually, that's the way Beast explained it to me. I'm not sure I'm explaining it right." Logan looked from one to the next, waiting for them to make any further comments. When no one did, he continued. "What else do we know?"

"There was a lot of her blood around that place, especially around some of those cells, too much to come off of hands. Which means that she must have helped the others in their escape," Piotr replied slowly.

"What else?"

"She was in Victor's cage, and she had killed at least one of those guards - the one that didn't have anything physically wrong with him," Jubilee chimed in.

"Anything else?" Logan asked, waiting for them to catch on. The only one with any real training was Piotr, but Logan was pretty sure that the boy had overlooked what was missing. When no one gave an answer, Logan shook his head. "The body. There was no body to bring back. Why?"

"One of the other mutants took it?" Warren asked, trying to piece together the picture.

"Why?" Logan asked again.

"Because, if she was still alive, they would want to try to help her?" Jubilee said quickly, jumping on Warren's conclusion bandwagon.

"Exactly." Logan couldn't help the grin that spread across his face. They were slow, but they were learning. "Creed wouldn't have taken her, alive or dead. She wasn't any use to him at all. It would have gone against his survival instincts. So, with her body being gone, someone else might have gotten her out of there, maybe because she helped them get out… What else do we know?"

"Most of her blood was in Creed's cell, with the other bodies." Warren looked to the others, waiting for someone to add on or challenge what was said. "But that could mean that she was hurt there first, and then made it out to help the others. Maybe after Victor took off?"

"It's a fifty-fifty shot, but it's something better than this. Just keep your ears open when you go on missions and things. I've got a couple of people working on this, too. We'll find her."

"And if she's dead?" Jubilee asked quietly, cringing at her own words.

"At least we'll be able to give her a proper goodbye, and there will be no more questions."

~*~*~*~*~*~

She sought him out, unsure if she was doing the right thing. She wasn't sure how he was going to take the news, but she knew that this would ultimately be the catalyst in her decision of whether to lead this team.

She found him sitting on the front porch, lazily watching the birds fly by. They were in a secluded area outside of the city, far from any highway. No one would notice. Not for the first time, she wondered why Mystique chose to keep up her disguise. Was it for the sake of another here?

But it wasn't the time to dwell on such things. This was a conversation that needed to take place and as much as she wished it wasn't up to her, there was no one else.

"Havok?" Rogue called as she walked to his side. She took a seat next to him on the only other lounge chair, carrying two beers and hoping that this conversation went well. "Brought you something cold to drink."

She handed him the beer as he eyed her closely, almost waiting for her burst into flames. "It's been a long time since a beautiful woman brought me a beer. It will have to be on me next time."

"Who said that there would be a next time?" Rogue asked, eyeing him closely. She took in his casual appearance, noting the laid back attitude. "Actually, I need to talk to you about something… Important."

He seemed to straighten somewhat as she got comfortable. The others in the house were all preoccupied with one thing or another, so she knew that they weren't going to be interrupted anytime soon. "I take it Raven talked to you about what she and Irene are planning, right?"

Rogue cocked her head to the side, her mind wrapping around the information the man in front of her had unknowingly provided. Raven had been one of Mystique's many aliases, one that she had used often, but she would have thought the shapeshifter would have shared who she really was with the entire group. Rogue wondered who else knew. Irene definitely. Victor and John, of course, but what about the others? Maybe Psylocke, but Rogue was pretty sure none of the others had any idea. She would have to talk to Mystique about this sooner than she planned. "Yeah, we talked about three days ago. I told her I would think about it. She wants to build a team to protect this place, kind of like the X-Men in New York. I don't know, though. I'm not sure how well I trust her."

"I've heard of the X-men," Havok said slowly, taking the conversation in the direction she was hoping for. "They've done some good things, but… I'm not too sure how much good they can do in the long run. Not with the way things keep going. Pretty soon, it's going to be every man for themselves."

"The X-Men need to learn how to be more open-minded with their fellow teammates. That's what will destroy them long before their work swallows them," Rogue replied sourly. He was looking at her questioningly, almost as if she had grown another head. "What, exactly, have the others told you about me?"

"Actually, not too many people in this house talk to me much." He looked away from her, taking a swig from his beer. His face twisted into a grimace, glancing at the label on the bottle. "What the hell is this? Piss?"

"Molson, actually. I asked Myst… Raven to pick me up a case last night. I didn't think it would already be here, nor was I expecting her to buy enough to last me a month. It's an acquired taste." Rogue couldn't keep her lips from twisting into a soft smile as she peered down at the label.

"What are you thinking about?" Havok asked playfully.

"The guy I acquired it from," she replied slowly, not realizing what she was saying until it was too late. Pushing all thoughts of him away, she willed herself to think of someone else, someone important to the conversation that she was having. "Why don't the others speak with you?"

"I don't really know, honestly. It was right after we got here when you were still passed out. Mystique was making sure you and Sabretooth were both taken care of. John was downstairs with us, talking. Every time I tried to say anything, he would make it perfectly clear that I wasn't one of them," he shrugged his shoulders, taking another swallow. "I think this is one taste I really don't feel like acquiring."

"Drink up. It will put some hair on your chest," Rogue said softly, knowing that the alcohol would dull the pain her theory was going to inflict.

"Is that why you drink it?" He was still trying to be playful, although there was a look of wariness in his eyes.

She shrugged a little, enjoying the banter. "Just remember, little man, my balls are bigger than yours. Don't test me."

He unleashed a laugh, and Rogue felt her heart jerk at the sound. It reminded her so much of another that she wasn't sure she would be able to continue. But if she didn't do it now, later would be too late. "What's your real name, Havok? The name you were born with?"

He shook his head slowly, not sure where she was going with this. He hadn't been asked that in a long time, and he wasn't sure what to tell her. "Summers, Alex Summers. Why? Is it important?"

"Yeah, actually, it is." She paused for a moment, knowing that this could go one of two ways, both extreme. "You had a brother, right? You were separated when you were kids."

"There was a plane crash. Our parents died. Scott and I…" And there it was. Scott. She could feel the tears build in her eyes. After his death, the only time she heard his name anymore was in whispers, as if everyone who had known him chose to tiptoe around his memory for fear of some invisible wrath. "I was adopted, but I never knew what happened to him. He was a few years older than me so the family I went with didn't want to take him, too. You know him, don't you?"

"Yeah," Rogue said slowly, looking back to her beer, trying not to notice the hope in his eyes. "I knew him. He was one of my teachers and a good friend."

"Was?" The hope seemed to vanish in an instant, and Rogue felt her heart go out to him. "What do you mean, 'was'?"

She sat back in her chair, knowing that she couldn't stop now that she had gone this far. She owed it to Scott, at least. "He passed away a few months back, just before I was taken to that place. He was a member of the X-Men. One of the leaders, actually."

"My brother was Cyclops?" Havok was in awe, and Rogue only hoped that he would have time to enjoy it before reality set in.

She smiled slowly, remembering the nicknames some of the kids used to call him. Logan had bestowed a few of those. She pushed those memories away, not wanting to defile Scott's memory. "Yeah. But he was more than that. He led a good life."

She gave him a moment to soak in everything he had just learned. She knew the question was coming even before he asked, and she wasn't sure what she was going to tell him. "How did he die?"

She took another swallow of her beer, trying to buy a few more seconds. "He was engaged to a woman about a year before his death. She died making sure that she saved the entire team, plus a few of the students. I was one of those students, and Scott was one of the people who would have died without her." She paused again, reaching for the right words. "It took its toll on him. He became withdrawn and aggravated. He wouldn't come out of his room and he stopped teaching. More importantly, he stopped leading the team. He left one day and didn't come back. It took some digging before we found out that he was killed by the mutant known as the Phoenix."

There was another moment of silence while she watched Havok soak up the information. There were going to be questions, and she was going to have to answer everything she could. "Did she go after him specifically or was it random?"

This was going to be difficult to explain, but he had a right to know. "Actually, Phoenix was originally a psychic who had disappeared a year before named Jean Grey. Her friends all thought she had died in an accident at a lake, but somehow she actually saved herself. Those details were never really shared with anyone, though. When she came out of it, she specifically called out to Scott, who couldn't resist going to her."

"Why would he do that, though? Just some strange mutant?"

Rogue downed the rest of her beer, knowing that this next part would show just what kind of man she would be dealing with. "Actually, I don't think he could stop himself even if he had wanted to and she wasn't just some mutant. Jean Grey was your brother's fiancée."

~*~*~*~*~*~

She had watched Alex finish downing his beer without a word. And when he asked for another, she fetched it for him without protest. There would be more questions later, but for now, what he knew would have to do. It was going to take time for him to heal.

They talked for a few more hours about other things, nothing serious though. She told him a few stories of her time at the institute and on the road, and he told her about life in Hawaii. They talked long after the sun set, bonding over the case of Molson, Alex steadily getting drunk and Rogue wondering why she was still sober after her sixth bottle. She shrugged, chalking it up to possibly still having Victor's healing factor.

After Alex was good and drunk, she helped him to his room, making sure he was comfortable before deciding to head to the kitchen for a bite to eat.

And that was where she came face to face with Pyro.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he asked incredulously. "If you're going to lead this damn team, do you really think it's a good idea to include the weakest link?"

"And why, exactly, do you think he's the weakest?" Rogue replied, her arms crossing over her chest. "I haven't seen you spend any time with him, so how would you know what he's capable of?"

John scoffed at her, realizing that she didn't know everything he did. "He's little more than a child, Rogue. He's not serious about anything. Hell, he didn't even learn to control his mutation until just before he was taken."

She scowled at him, checking the urge to break his nose. "I still have no control over my mutation. What the hell does that say about me?"

"You're different, Rogue. You're strong and you've had the training. You're serious," John shrugged at her. "You're the Rogue. What do you really know about this guy?"

"For one," Rogue began, the urge to hurt him increasing with every word he uttered. "I know that from the first night, you turned the others against him. I also have a hunch you know that Scott was his brother. That's probably why you're giving him such a hard time."

She could practically feel his anger rise, but there was no surprise. He had known, probably from the beginning. "I'm taking the job, Pyro. I know you want it, but Mystique's right. You're not fit for it. With you in charge, these people would be dead in a week."

"And who are you going to make your second-in-command?" he asked, sarcasm dripping from his voice. "Havok?"

"No." Rogue paused when she heard the deep growl behind her, knowing whom it was without turning around. She smiled slowly, realizing that this man alone would give her all the back-up she could ever need. "I'll be her second. And if you don't like it… well, I could always use your bones to pick my teeth."

"How long you been up, Victor?"


	12. drinking and information

"You do know what you're getting yourself into with this hero crap, right?" he asked slowly, eyeing her as she looked out over the city she was supposed to protect. There was no denying the corruption that transpired in the growing city. The sounds of gunshots and screams rang through the night, breaking the silence. More disturbing than that was the absence of sirens wailing and the sound of police helicopters in the air, monitoring the streets.

"That's a stupid question, Victor. Wouldn't have expected it from you," she replied with a drunken laugh. There was an empty case of beer between them and a half bottle of Victor's favorite, Jack Daniels. She saw the lack of humor in his eyes, and forced herself to at least pretend sobriety. "I know exactly what I'm getting into. Hell, even the people are pretty much the same. Pyro's the insufferable prick with the eternal stick up his ass. I've got the gung-ho, yes-sir cadet in Carol. Psylocke's the lazy-ass telepath with the training that actually wants to do paperwork and thinks her shit don't stink. Get her a bottle of hair dye and she'd be Jean all over again. Hell, I've even got my own bad-ass Wolverine in you."

"Frail, you've really grown on me," Victor said slowly, taking a swig of the whiskey. "But if you ever compare me to the runt again, I will cut your fucking tongue out just to shut you up."

She laughed again, even knowing full well that he was perfectly serious. "Yeah, that isn't the first time you've used that particular threat on me. Face it, Victor; you and Logan are more alike than either of you thinks."

"You were close, weren't you?" He could hear the affection in her voice as she spoke. He thought he had heard it before, on the rare occasion that she spoke of him, but he usually didn't pay any attention. It was harder to ignore now that her tongue was a little looser. "You and the runt, I mean."

She paused for a moment, her eyes twinkling with amusement at some far-off memory. He took the time to study her face. The moonlight made her pale skin glow along with the streaks of white she had gained at Ellis Island. Her eyes were bright and wide, almost too big for her face, her lips full and a little crooked. Her features should have been strange, but, for whatever reason, the total package worked for her. With the streaks in her hair, she looked almost angelic. Too bad he knew better.

"He saved my life," she said abruptly. Her voice was even and cool, but he would have to be deaf, blind and stupid to miss the multitude of emotions lurking beneath her words. "And he promised to take care of me. He was my protector."

If he had learned anything about the girl sitting next to him, it was that she didn't need to be protected from the real world. The world should be protected from her. "You love him?"

She answered without thinking, without considering what she was saying. "More than anything." Her words were automatic and it worried her that she would give the information so easily to the man next to her. "But it's a secret," she added hastily.

"Then why haven't you called him?" Victor questioned, waiting patiently for her response. Normally, he would have steered the conversation in a totally different area, but, for whatever reason, he wanted to keep going with this. She was hurting inside and he wanted to take that pain away. She was the closest thing to a friend that he could remember having, the only person that he could trust with his back. "You going to let him know you're okay?"

"Nope," she retorted, stretching her legs out across the roof and snatching the bottle of whiskey from his hand. She took another swig, her eyes squeezing shut at the feel of the burn as the liquid slid down her throat. "He made it perfectly clear that he had no opinion on what I do before I left. And I doubt he noticed that I never came back, at least not right away. Besides, they all believe that I took the cure. I don't need to burden them with the truth. And I really don't need him showing up on my doorstep to find me drinking my liver away with you. If I called him now… I'm not ready for the questions and I was never a good liar."

They were both silent for a moment, neither sure what to say next, neither wanting to leave the roof just yet.

It was Rogue who broke the stillness, but only after she swallowed two more mouthfuls of Jack. "I still have your abilities. Why?"

"Couldn't really say," Victor replied with a shrug. "But I will help you get used to them if you want. Just don't go falling in love with me or any of that crap."

She giggled lightly at his attempt at humor, thankful that he was trying to lighten the tension. "That's me, alright. Gotta love those ferals. You really going to be my second in command?"

The smile his lips twisted into should have horrified her. There was something primal and bloodthirsty behind it. "Looks that way. You need someone on this damn team you can trust."

"And I can't trust any of the others?" She didn't miss the cocked eyebrow he gave her; so reminiscent of another, but she refrained from commenting on it. "So Pyro thinks he would make a better leader, and even if she's not now, Carol will probably be on the same idea about herself shortly. Military and all."

"Not to mention Magneto's bouncing baby boy. And the thief."

"I ain't too worried about Mr. LeBeau," Rogue replied quickly, her southern accent becoming more pronounced. "He's too busy trying to figure out a way to get into my pants to be worried about how to take my place."

"They've all got a reason to want to take over as team captain, Rogue. Don't forget that," Victor said slowly, letting his words sink in. "Even the Summers boy might think it's a great way to prove himself. Especially now that he knows who is brother was."

"So I have a team I can't trust except for you. It's not like I could trust everyone on the last team I was a part of, you know," she replied. She began to giggle suddenly, forcing Victor to look at her strangely.

"What's so funny, Frail?" he asked, more curious than anything.

"I just realized something." She giggled again, watching his confusion grow on his face. "We have none of the technology Xavier's team has, but I can match each person up personality-wise. Victor, we're the poor man's X-Men."

~*~*~*~*~*~

"If we are going to do this, I need to know now that I can rely on you as a team. That means I should be able to trust you with my life. At this point, I wouldn't trust you to water my houseplant." Rogue paused, hoping that they would understand what she was getting at. Victor's words from the night before were able to get through the alcoholic haze and really woken her up. "There are going to be certain rules laid out right now. There will be no exceptions and absolutely no deviance. First off, you will start exclusively using codenames for the next month. We have to get used to calling each other these names in the field. All of you should have names already, so that shouldn't be too much of a hardship, but there can't be any slip-ups in the field. It can cost lives."

Rogue paused again, knowing that her next rule was going to cause friction with at least one of her subordinates. "There will be no outside contact at all. If you have family that you have already contacted, let me know now. Otherwise, if you have not contacted anyone yet, do not do so. Letting them know that you are alive and where you are can be extremely dangerous for both your family and this team. We do not have the manpower or the funds to keep them safe. I cannot stress enough the importance of keeping your loved ones in the dark. This job is about sacrifice, people. And sacrifice was not meant to be easy."

"You mean I can't even call my mother to let her know I didn't just disappear?" Carol asked slowly, standing from her place on the couch.

Rogue had been expecting this. "Exactly. I have no means of protecting anyone other than the people who will be on this team. If you had planned on contacting anyone, you should have done it right after arrival."

Rogue could see the anger in the other woman's eyes as she straightened her back. "What the hell gives you the right to make up these rules? Who put you in charge of this thing?"

"I did," Mystique answered before anyone else could. She wasn't going to be a part of the team, but she did agree to sit in on the meetings until everyone was a little more comfortable with their roles. It seemed as if it was going to be a while before that happened, though. "Rogue is the most advanced among all of you. She has the most qualifications and training, and she has learned how to not only work among other mutants, but also use their different talents to accentuate each other. Do you have a problem with that, Ms. Danvers?"

"Yeah, actually, I do," Carol replied, turning her heated gaze on the shapeshifter. "The girl's barely more than a child, and you're putting her in charge of a team of powerful mutants. I doubt she's had all that much training. I'm the only one here who has any military training and Pyro was your own cohort before all of this happened. I doubt she's much of a leader. She can't even control her abilities."

Rogue had to work to keep her temper in check, since she could feel both Logan and Victor growling away in her head. But she had to admit that it was going better than she thought it would. At least Carol hadn't tried to hit her or anything.

"Regardless of her lack of control, she is also the most advanced mutant among you. She has worked with some of the greatest telepaths in the world, and she is the only one of you who has three different leaders that she can call on for advice," Mystique was practically fuming now, disgusted with the woman's doubts. "And you have just proven why you cannot be trusted as this team's leader. You have no respect for authority, and considering your background I am very hard-pressed to believe that you were discharged from the Air Force solely because of your mutation. I am beginning to wonder if you made it a habit of questioning your commanding officers."

"Of course not!" Carol exclaimed, a look of horror washing over her face.

"Then why are you doing so now?" There was no answer to Mystique's question, and, as much as it baffled Rogue to have the shapeshifter stand up for her, she also knew what it meant. Not only Mystique stood completely behind her, but Destiny and Psylocke as well. "Then shut that gaping hole in your face and sit your ass down."

Rogue waited for a moment for someone else to comment, but no one did. She looked each person in the eye, letting them know that she was not going to back down. She also noted that, thanks to Mystique, the defiance in Pyro's eyes had disappeared. Maybe, just maybe, she would be able to get through this. "Now, while it will be your job to listen and follow any directions I give you, it will be my job to keep you alive. You will answer to me and to Sabretooth, no one else. While Mystique backs me in whatever decision I have to make, you will not take orders from anyone else. Mystique already knows this. If something happens to me, Sabretooth will take over and move on from there." Rogue continued to explain what they would be doing.

"We will start with a practice run one week from tonight. I already have attire on order and it should be arriving in the next couple of days." While they would help anyone they came across, they would not be delving into the deeper workings of the city until she knew what her team was capable of and who would best work together. After that, the training would intensify until everyone was on the same level. She only hoped that it would go smoother than the meeting had tonight.

~*~*~*~*~

"I'm telling you, I'm fine."

"Just stay put, I'm coming to get you. Mom and Dad have been worried sick. I cannot believe that you waited this long to call me."

"I wanted to see what this was about first, and I think I want to stay. I just have one problem: the girl who's supposed to be leading us, Rogue… I don't trust her. I don't think she knows what she's doing, and neither does anyone else. Can you help me get her out of the way?"

"Give me a few hours. You said that this thing will be going down in a week, right? I'll take care of it then, but I need you to get home, too. At least for a visit. Let Mom and Dad know you're alive, please."

"I'll think about it. Just take care of Rogue for me, got it?"

~*~*~*~*~*~

It was three in the morning when he got the call he had been waiting for. He had kept that damn cell phone at his side at all times for the last week, going so far as to sleep with it by his head. Everything else had gone on much the same as before. The school had continued and those on the team continued to train. The only difference was that he had begun his own extensive training course.

If they were going to be a unit, he wanted to be sure that Jubilee, Colossus, and Angel all knew how to fight better than the others. He needed to know that they could fight dirty and if they got into a bind, they would be able to take care of themselves. Basically, he was training them to be soldiers. Mercenaries. Of course, no one knew about these training sessions. Everyone who noticed anything was under the assumption that his team was helping him design new programs and simulations.

"What did she say?" Logan asked quickly, sleep completely forgotten. "Does she know anything?"

"We need to talk, Logan," Savannah's voice held distinct urgency, though there was no panic. "Can you meet me somewhere in the city?"

He quickly named a place, knowing what he was doing and the consequences this could have, not only for himself but his entire team. Still, they needed to be there; they were all banking on each other and none had turned their back on the cause.

"You sure about this?" Savannah asked slowly.

"Yeah, just hurry your ass up," he growled into the phone before hanging up abruptly.

~*~*~*~*~*~

He had everyone else sitting in the large library on the first floor while he waited for his visitor at the entrance. The others were being patient, but he knew that they were as nervous as he was. No one else in the building knew about this early-morning rendezvous, and he was intending to keep it that way.

He watched her pull into the drive slowly, winding her way up the pavement to the front doors. Getting out, he caught her scent, and the puzzlement beneath it.

"I'm still not sure why you wanted to meet here. Won't you have a lot of explaining to do to the mistress of the house?" Savannah queried, her eyes droopy from lack of sleep.

He growled lowly at her lack of humor: he didn't need this shit right now. "Just hurry up and come on. My team's waiting, and they need to know what's going on, too. I'd rather it came from you so that there are no questions later."

"Whatever. Just let me grab my briefcase."

~*~*~*~*~*~

"Listen up, kids. This is Special Agent Savannah Danvers. She's the one who pointed me to the facility that Rogue was kept in. Her sister was in the same place." Logan looked to his team. All three were sitting up straight, watching with complete undivided attention. He knew that, like himself, none had gotten any kind of sleep, but they were all on full alert. He was proud of all three.

"I received contact from my sister last week. It seems that Rogue did escape, and she is staying in a house just outside of the Las Vegas city limits. It seems that she is trying to pull together a team that will greatly resemble the X-Men, in order to protect the people and mutants of Las Vegas." Danvers paused, letting the young people absorb the information. Looking at each, she realized that they were all little more than children, and she wondered why it was that they were expected to carry such burdens on their young shoulders. "My sister has informed me that they will be going on their first run in one week. She's also afraid that the team is being pushed too hard and isn't ready for this. She's heard about all of you, and is hoping that you will come to intervene before someone loses their life."

Logan waited for a moment, making eye contact with everyone. He knew the decision was unanimous and all agreed. "We'll go, but we're not intervening in anything. Rogue is capable of leading her own team. We just want to make sure that she's all right, and if she does need help, we'll be there for her. Hell, we might even be able to help her get this team ready. Do you know more about this team she's putting together?"

"Not really, only that my sister feels she may be too young. She didn't really specify the other mutants or even how many. I'm guessing about five or six." Savannah didn't want to tell them about the favor her sister had asked for. She wasn't sure if Carol was right about Rogue.


	13. healing and regrets

"I brought your uniform. Try it on so that we know it fits," she said quickly as she threw the package on his bed. When she hadn't gotten an answer to her knock, she had tried the knob, and finding it unlocked, walked in. After quickly scribbling two notes, she had placed the first package on the twin bed she suspected was Remy's just as the adjoining bathroom door opened and Havok walked out, wearing nothing but a towel. "Let me see when you're done so I can order anything else we need right away."

"You don't want to stay and watch?" Havok asked quickly, as he flashed a half-smile. "I put on quite a show."

She arched her eyebrow at him, wondering if he was being playful or genuinely trying to flirt. Flashing her own smirk at him, she decided to test the waters. Hopping on the bed, she crossed her legs and stretched out on her back, placing her hands behind her head. "Alright then, let's see if you can out-do the freaks running around in my head."

Havok looked at her, a little speechless. Suddenly, his shoulders hunched as his ears turned hot red. He was embarrassed. Rogue wondered how many times he had actually been in a situation like this.

Shaking her head, she shifted so she could easily stand as her eyes lowered in disappointment. "Oh well. I guess you're all talk, huh?"

She walked to the door, shaking her head as she reached for the knob.

"Hold on," Havok said quickly, pushing on the door from behind her. Unaware the situation had gotten so far, she turned around to find herself in a very awkward position. "You just kind of took me by surprise is all. I mean, with your mutation…"

"What about my mutation?" Rogue interrupted, her anger suddenly rising. She was tired of people making assumptions just because she had no control over her skin. "You think I can't have sex? I have killer skin, Alex. It's not like I'm missing the actual parts."

"I know that," Havok replied, his voice deepening. "I've thought of a few ways."

She wasn't sure what to say; she hadn't really thought of him in that way. Actually, she didn't think of anyone in that way any longer. He was so immature, though, little more than a kid. "How old are you, anyway?"

"Twenty. Same as you," he stated, throwing her an amused grin.

So physically, they were on the same page. Mentally, though, she would be surprised to discover he could read, much less at an eighth grade level. "Havok, I've got some pretty freaky people in my head. I'm really not sure you're man enough for me. Why don't you give it a couple of years and then come see me?"

It was supposed to be an insult, a way to dissuade him. But, judging by the look in his eyes, he seemed to take it as more of a challenge. "A couple more years, huh?"

She felt his hand glide softly up her left thigh, climbing up to her waist and stopping just under her breast. "You sure about that?"

He still had his other hand against the door, leaning his weight on it. She knew that she wouldn't have a problem getting out of this situation, especially with the Logan inside her head giving her tips on how to castrate a man while Victor laughed at the boy in front of her. Of course, looking at his form, she guessed she would have to stop thinking of him as a boy. Lean and muscular from growing up on a surfboard and walking through the paradise of Hawaii, she realized that he really was quite attractive. He hadn't been held captive long enough for malnutrition to set in, being caught only a few days before the break-out, so his skin was still a light bronze and his hair was sun streaked. Of course, with his pale blue eyes, he seemed almost god-like.

"We could always have some fun, you know. No strings attached." His smile grew wider as his face drew closer to hers. There was very little space between his body and hers now, just enough to keep them from actually touching.

She smiled, her eyes lowering demurely. It would have been tempting, if not for his last comment. "Just as long as you don't fall too hard."

"And what makes you think I haven't already fallen?" he returned as he closed the gap. The kiss was quick and would have been considered chaste by most, but for a woman with untouchable skin, it was the most romantic experience she could remember having.

He hadn't held the connection long enough for her mutation to absorb much, but she did obtain the surface feelings. The most prominent would be lust, of course, but there was more. Awe for her strength and the respect he had for her as a woman and a person. The biggest turn on, though, was the lack of fear. It was almost intoxicating how her mutation didn't phase his lust at all. She wasn't used to such behavior.

"You either have a death wish, or you're a very stupid man, Alex," she said, unable to hide the humor in her voice.

"You don't scare me, Rogue. Now, your bodyguard out there, he scares the shit out of me. But you, well… There are just so many things I want to do to you."

She giggled a little, knowing that it only turned him on more. "Like what?"

"There are places I want to touch," he said slowly, his voice barely a whisper as his hand pulled away from the door to touch her body.

"Here," he said as his hand found the underside of her left breast. It traveled lower, resting on the sensitive spot just beneath her navel. "And here. A couple of other places, too."

"Will you show me?" she whispered, trying to hide the tremble in her voice.

~*~*~*~*~*~

The meeting happened completely by chance, at least on his part. He hadn't sought her out for this; just stopped at his favorite bar, needing a few drinks and a couple of games of pool. Of course, there were no cage fights in this bar, but that wasn't a real problem. He knew the owners well, and, with the crowd they had, there was a good chance they'd need some help calming down one or two of the patrons.

He hadn't expected the hand on his ass as he bent over the pool table, nor did he expect the blue eyes that met his as he turned to see who was behind him.

He had never pictured her like this. Truth be told, he hadn't ever tried to picture her in anything but a suit with a briefcase and a badge. But here she was, standing behind him wearing a leather skirt that barely covered the bottom of her ass and a shirt that only stayed up because of her tits. She looked like a regular barfly. It took him a moment to even recognize her.

"Savannah?" He cocked an eyebrow at her, noticing the come-fuck-me boots that ended just below her knees. The make-up she wore was lavish and bright, bringing out her features in a way he'd never seen before. "What are you doing here?"

"Trying to find a good fuck. What about you?" He listened closely for the hint of a drunken slur, but found none. He would be surprised to find that the drink in her hand wasn't her first.

"Just trying to relieve some tension." He shrugged noncommittally, turning back to the game he had going against another regular.

He heard her giggle behind him, and felt her hand rest lightly on his ass again. "You know, there is an even better way to relieve that tension than just playing pool. If you'd care to join me?"

Putting down the pool cue, he smiled at the man across the table. "Looks like you win, Dick. See ya later."

The man named Dick only shook his head as he watched Logan grab his jacket and leave. "Nah, pal, I think you won."

~*~*~*~*~*~

She felt as if she was floating as her back arched to meet the gentle kisses he was placing against her most sensitive area. She moaned softly, gasping as she bit down on her fist to keep from being heard. The man sure knew what he was doing.

He looked up at her, a smile spreading across his boyish features, his blue eyes sparkling. "I told you it was a good show."

"Then why the hell do you keep stopping?" she demanded, noticing how the white sheet they had draped over her body actually seemed to make his tan a little darker.

He only laughed as he dipped his head again, and she could feel his tongue flick over her folds through the sheet. Within moments, she felt her soul go over the edge as she reached her first orgasm by someone other than herself.

It was all he could do to hold on to her and keep his face buried deeply against her as she bucked and squirmed under his assault. She moaned loudly, forgetting to stifle any noise. It didn't seem all that important any more.

~*~*~*~*~*~

He moaned loudly as she pressed him against the door, her lips placing little kisses along his shaft. It felt so good to feel her mouth on him as she took him as deeply as she possibly could. She gagged some around him, and the feeling of her throat muscles constricting were almost enough to send him over the edge.

As much as he was looking forward to those blissful few seconds that every human being should experience, he knew that he couldn't let it come too soon. Picking up the woman kneeling before him, he tossed her onto the bed, plunging deep inside her from behind.

"Oh, God, Logan," she screamed as she felt his assault on her. She needed this release just as badly as he did, if not more.

His grip tightened around her waist as he pulled out and turned her over onto her back. Then he was buried deeply inside of her again, pumping harder and harder as she screamed out his name. At the same time, he was picturing someone else beneath him, someone whose eyes weren't blue.

~*~*~*~*~*~

He entered her slowly, feeling her muscles constricting around him. He could feel her warmth enclosing around the condom he wore, and the pull of her taking him in deeper. Her hands were on his chest, carefully covered by the sheet as he took her slowly, gently, through the strategically placed hole, enjoying the feel of her pleasure as she moaned under him.

She could feel his muscles tighten as he pushed deeper. She could feel herself climax again, straining to go over the edge as his pace picked up. She locked eyes with him as she fell, and she could feel him stiffen, also. They were riding the same wave now, and it was beautiful.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Somewhat mechanically, he rolled off her. His release hadn't been what he had expected, and truth be told, he found himself a little repulsed by what had transpired. The woman he was with didn't have the dark chestnut locks with white streaks he had pictured, nor the brown eyes that seemed to haunt his soul. He had been so enraptured with his fantasy that he hadn't even realized there was a completely different woman underneath him. And now he felt guilt and disgust with himself.

And to make it worse, she knew. He could see the accusations in her cold blue eyes as she watched him sit up to pull his jeans back on. Although there was anger, there was no pain behind the accusations.

"Who's Marie?" she asked slowly, her voice too high and her dialect too Midwestern.

He stopped abruptly, one pant leg on. He was frozen for a moment, wondering how he could have let her name slip like that. "Someone I knew once."

"You always call out another woman's name during sex?" she teased, her voice full of understanding.

He shrugged lightly, pushing the other leg through the jeans. "Not that I can recall, and if I have, well, no one has seemed to mind."

"You love her?"

"Yup."

"Then why are you here?"

"Because, I guess I didn't realize how I loved her until tonight." Logan sighed as he stood to pull the pants up. "I didn't even realize she was a woman until tonight."

"Where is she now?" Savannah asked, sitting up slowly and holding the sheet up to keep herself covered. Logan wasn't sure what the point was, since he'd already seen everything.

"Lost."

"You gonna find her?"

"I sure as hell hope so."

He pulled on the rest of his clothes without a word, racing out of there as fast as he could with every intention of finding a hot shower as far away from the dingy motel room as possible. He had never felt so dirty before in his life.

~*~*~*~*~*~

She closed her eyes to the warmth, everything below her chin covered by a fresh, light blanket, the damp sheet tossed aside somewhere. His face was nuzzling her hair while his right arm was snaked across her abdomen as he spooned her from behind. They had come together, crashing against each other in their embrace.

She hadn't believed that it could be like this, not with all that had already happened to her. When her mutation had first manifested, she had known that it would never happen for her. Dating Bobby and witnessing his clumsy attempts at touch only emphasized this point for her. The idea was sealed when she saw him kissing another girl on the pond of ice and dead water lilies.

Then she had found new hope with the cure, and even though the timing might have been hell, she had known that she wasn't doing it for a boy, but for herself. But her salvation turned into a nightmare and she was shown what could happen to a girl with touchable skin, a girl who could no longer hear the voices of wisdom within her mind. She had been made into a toy, a dispensable object to be shared and passed around, and thrown to an animal to be played with. She was shown that, as a woman, she was nothing; her emotional and mental state did not matter, and she had wished with everything she had that she would one day be able to use her mutation again.

But then this man came along, after she was safe, after her mutation was whole again. And he showed her that there was no reason to be afraid of her mutation or who she was, that this intimate act that two people shared, this moment of complete clarity and equality in the purest form possible could be hers, also.

She could almost imagine herself falling in love with this man beside her for what he had shown her. He had reminded her that she was still a woman, no matter how she had been used before, no matter who had been afraid of her. He had shown her that she was still human.

But as much as she cared for him, she knew that they could be no more than what they were at this moment: two friends who had found each other in a moment of loneliness and needing companionship. What they had could not grow into something more.

It was a bittersweet moment for her, but she could feel her soul begin to heal and accept what had happened to her.

~*~*~*~*~*~

She understood how he felt as he quietly shut the motel door behind him. She could feel it too. The sex had been a useful tool and an almost good idea, but neither of them had really thought about the feelings that would arise afterward. She knew that the guilt he felt was only matched by her own. She had seen it in his eyes, and the pain was almost unbearable.

She hadn't been angry that he had called her another woman's name, nor had she been upset when he admitted his love for her. She was angry with herself more than anything. She had known that it had been a mistake when she followed him into that bar, waiting until just the right moment to approach him. Hell, he had been the catalyst in the reasoning she had used with herself to buy the silly outfit that was now strewn across the floor. But that wasn't the worst of it.

No. The worst was that she had known, deep down inside, that he wasn't available for anything. Even if he hadn't yet opened his eyes and realized it when they met, she had seen the signs from the moment she first saw him. It wasn't hard to miss, of course; the sadness in his eyes, the hunched shoulders. She could almost feel the pain and need coming off him.

But, in the end, her lust had won over her morals, and she had gone for it. She felt cheap and used, soiled and dirty.

Tossing the sheet aside, Savannah stood slowly, her knees shaking. She made her way into the bathroom naked. She refused to let her emotions show until she had entered the shower and felt the first stabs of hot water hit her. Then she let the tears flow freely, wondering all the time how she could have allowed herself to sink so low.

~*~*~*~*~*~

He could feel her body relax beside him, felt her breathing hitch as she slipped away into that world between sleep and wakefulness. She was warm against him, and it took every ounce of willpower he had not to kiss along the slope of her neck. He had thought her beautiful from the first moment he had seen her, but her compassion and her strength had only intensified that.

He had been shocked when she had joined him on the patio, and even more bewildered when she had told him of his brother. It wasn't until much later, when he was in this very bed and his mind was wondering over what had actually happened that he realized how much it must have hurt her to tell him. How close they must have been for her to know what she did. Never once had she shown any raw emotion, and it made his respect for her grow.

He wasn't delusional, though. He cared for her, much in the same way she did for him, and he also knew that there wouldn't be a relationship growing between them. If he was honest with himself, he knew that his original intentions had been to give her something special, something that would help her move on from the ordeal that she had endured. But he hadn't realized how much it would help him too.

After the death of his family, he and his brother had been placed in a foster home. He had been adopted almost right away, but Scott hadn't. That had torn him up inside and the guilt had given him ulcers as a small child.

To make matters worse, his family had tried to mold him into something he wasn't: their dead son. He had never lived up to their expectations.

But this woman lying at his side had accepted him without any strings or questions. She hadn't asked for anything in return after telling him about his brother, and hadn't expected anything from him, either. And what had just transpired between them hadn't been solely for one or the other, but for both. He had never felt so free before.


	14. sex talk and shame

She quietly closed the door behind her, leaving Havok in a deep sleep. It was beginning to get late, and she didn't want to think about what might happen or who might get killed if the swamp rat decided to call it a night.

Tiptoeing down the hall, she wished she had thought to put on a few more clothes. As it was, she was sneaking out in her underwear and one of Havok's oversized t-shirts. Nothing was concealed. No one was safe.

Then again, she was just heading down the hall. If she could just get there before…

"Enjoy yourself, Frail?" Rogue turned to see Victor sneaking up the stairs. She had no idea how he did it, but couldn't help but wonder if he just lurked in the shadows, waiting for the perfect moment to catch her off guard. She should have been more worried about her surroundings than just trying to make it to her room. She should have caught his scent. Catching it now, she realized that there was something different about it. "It's called contentment, Frail. Why don't you go put some clothes on and meet me up on the roof."

She shrugged briefly, standing tall as she walked past him. He stepped back a little, giving her room, and whispered just loud enough for her to hear, "You smell like contentment, too. And something else. Hurry up."

~*~*~*~*~*~

He was sitting at the edge of the roof by the ladder, his legs hanging over the edge.

"Don't you think we could find someplace a little closer to the ground to meet up at?" she asked indignantly as she pulled herself up and onto the inclined surface.

Victor laughed softly as she settled herself next to him. "What's the matter? You afraid of heights all of a sudden?"

"Nah, just not too sure how I feel about being three stories above the fucking ground and drinking with a psychopath," she replied playfully, grabbing one of the beers he had brought up with him.

"Sociopath, Frail. There's a difference, you know."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah; and we both know how proud of that you really are. Anyway, why did you want to meet here?" she asked pointedly, looking out into the night. She was already used to the differences heightened senses caused from all the previous times she had absorbed Logan, but it was still somewhat disturbing when she allowed herself to think about it. Although everything was very dark and still, she could hear the noise of the desert animals all around her.

"There ain't nothing like a drink after good sex," Victor replied as he popped the top off his own can. "Hell, there ain't nothing like a drink after bad sex, either. Did you enjoy yourself?"

"Okay, I am not having this conversation with you," Rogue said quickly before chugging on her own drink. "Besides, from what I can gather, you had your own fun tonight, didn't you?"

Victor paused, his eyes growing hard with concentration. "I wouldn't really call what we did fun. I mean, I've had worse… Not by much, but there have been worse."

"So, Mystique losing her touch?" Rogue asked, raising her eyebrow mockingly.

"I haven't been with Raven since she had Junior," Victor chuckled, tossing his now empty beer can off the side of the roof. "Try again."

She closed her eyes, letting her sense of smell open. As soon as she caught the second scent coming from him, she choked. "You didn't…"

He laughed, patting her on the back. "Yup, and like I said, not the worst, but pretty fucking close."

"Jesus, Victor. She's a fucking bitch. Did you really think she'd be that good? I don't even think she has an imagination to speak of."

Victor shrugged again, opening the bottle of whiskey he had brought up with him. He took a quick swig before passing it to her. "I ain't never been with a flyer before. Thought it would be a bit more interesting. Maybe next time, I'll fuck one that doesn't have super strength. It's not that much fun when she's flipping you around, too. Kept telling her to fucking stop that shit, but she thought that was me flirting or playing hard to get. That nut was more work than fun."

Rogue looked at him questioningly, trying to figure out if he was really serious. There was one question she had to ask, though. "Why didn't you just get up and walk out?"

"Because it would be disgraceful to walk away from free pussy, Frail," Victor admonished, baring his teeth as he let out another chuckle.

~*~*~*~*~*~

He looked at himself in the mirror again, watching the droplets of water travel down his skin. He could feel the sharpness of guilt stabbing away at him, threatening what was left of his sanity. What the hell was he thinking, sleeping with her? What would the others say if they found out? They were already suspicious of his true feelings for their friend. Would they condemn him for lying in another woman's arms?

He could hear the soft knock on the door as he dried his face, letting the softness of the towel caress his skin. "Yeah?"

"We're ready whenever you are, Logan," Jubilee said through the mahogany door. "We're in the war room."

"Great. I'll be down in a minute." Logan studied his reflection one more time, the guilt still gnawing away at him. With a surge of anger, he punched his reflection, turning away as the glass shattered.

"Fuck me."

~*~*~*~*~*~

"Fuck me."

"That's what she kept saying?" Rogue giggled, taking a sip of her third beer. "Over and over again? That was the extent of her dirty talk vocabulary?"

"Yup," Victor replied with his own chuckle. "And to make it even better, she moans like a fucking seal."

Not expecting his last remark, Rogue couldn't hold back her laugh, spewing her mouthful of beer all over Victor and down her shirt.

"I swear, you're just like having a little brother or something, Frail," Victor said as he wiped at the beer with his hand. "It wasn't that funny."

"Yes it was," Rogue replied, still giggling.

He gave her another moment to calm down before he asked his own question. "You never answered my question: did you have fun?"

Rogue thought about the question, remembering the things that had transpired within the house beneath them.

"Yeah… I had fun," she replied with a slight smile. "It wasn't what I thought it was going to be, but I enjoyed it. He was a gentleman, something that I wasn't expecting from someone so laid back. And he showed me that I wasn't a monster or a toy. I think he helped me heal."

Victor smiled at that, catching the emotion in her voice. "And what about him? Did he have fun?"

"Well, no one barked like a seal, but I think he did." She paused, remembering her last glance at the man she had once thought of as a boy. "He was sleeping when I left, and he had a smile on his face."

"That's what's important, Frail."

~*~*~*~*~*~

"Where did you go last night?" she asked as he took a seat at the long table.

He let his eyes meet hers before moving to the other two pairs of eyes that were watching him. "I needed to get away. Went to go play some pool and have a few drinks. Did you guys get any practice in?"

"Yeah," Warren said, eyes holding his leader's gaze. Logan was keeping something from them, and they all knew it, but there was no point in trying to drag it out of him. "I think Storm knows something's up. She made sure the alpha team was out of there in time for us to get a couple of hours in."

"Ororo is not a stupid woman," Logan replied slowly. "She trusts us, and she won't ask any questions that she knows will go unanswered anyway. I hate keeping this from her, but I also don't need her trying to throw her team into the mix. If she does suspect something, she's got tomorrow to find out what it is. We'll be leaving at around 0800 hours on Saturday. I want to get there with enough time to scope out the city. It's been a while since I've been there, and I hear it's changed a lot. All three of you need to be prepared; print up some maps and memorize them. We're not tourists, people."

~*~*~*~*~*~

"Do you think they're going to be able to handle this?" Rogue asked slowly as she finished the last beer. They had been talking and drinking for a few hours now, ignoring the noise coming from the floor below them. "We've only got tomorrow and then I'm taking them out. Do you think it's going to work?"

Victor thought for a moment. "They're all powerful in their own right. Plus, they've got a good leader with experience, and most of them are willing to follow your orders. They're young, and too stupid to know what they're really getting into. And by the time they wise up, they'll be way too involved to pull out."

"Great. What does this say about me?"

"You didn't really have a choice, did you, Frail? I don't know about the rest of the X-Geeks but you and the runt… This is the life you were meant for." Victor didn't wait for a response before he simply jumped from the roof, landing gracefully on the ground.

Rogue stayed where she was for another half hour, contemplating what he had just said. Maybe he was right. Maybe this was what she was supposed to do with her life.


	15. The Reunion

"What the hell is she doing here?" Jubilee asked as they prepared to board the small jet. Her eyes narrowed coldly as she turned her heated gaze on her leader. "I though it was team members only?"

"Agent Danvers is our informant, Jubilee, and her sister is part of this mess, too. She asked if she could tag along." Logan could understand the young woman's intolerance. She knew what had transpired between himself and Savannah. She never asked any questions, but she had figured it out during that first meeting afterward.

"Shouldn't she wait here, then?" Jubilee asked, rolling her eyes. "I mean, you know, we have no clue about what we're walking into. Won't it be a little too dangerous for her?"

"She's had the training, Jubilee. She knows what might happen when we get there. She wants to check on her sister." Logan wasn't sure why he felt the need to explain anything to the young woman who was supposed to follow his orders. It might have had something to do with the accusations in her eyes. "She's not going to be any more of a liability than you are."

"Actually, she will be," Jubilee replied as she walked up the loading dock. "You've never fucked anyone else on this team."

She walked away quickly, her back stiff as she ignored the deep growl that vibrated behind her. Pausing for a second next to Savannah's seat at the back of the jet, she smiled sweetly at the older woman. "Funny, I could have sworn that Logan preferred redheads and brunettes."

Jubilee didn't wait for a reply as she made her way to the pilot's seat.

"We've got rooms at the El Cortez in the downtown area," Logan said swiftly as he buckled himself in and chose to ignore Jubilee's last comment. He would have to deal with it when they returned. If she returned with them, that is. "We're lucky Storm was able to keep in touch with most of Xavier's contacts; we've been given permission to land at Nellis Air Force Base. Remember, this is completely stealth. Rogue can't know we're there. We just need to check to make sure that she's alive and well. She'll come home when she's ready."

Jubilee looked at him over her shoulder, rolling her eyes, her voice still icy. "You couldn't have, you know, sprung for something a little better? I mean, on the actual Strip or something."

"Knock it off," Logan growled at the young woman as she snapped her gum. "I'm not even paying for this trip, Jubilee, and Ororo's being very generous with her funds, seeing as how she lent us the fucking Blackbird without asking any questions. I was just planning on bringing tents and camping out in the desert. But 'Ro insisted."

"Chill, Logan. I'm not asking for the Wynn. Maybe the MGM, but not the Wynn." Jubilee rolled her eyes, turning around and focusing on the controls in front of her. "The Bellagio would have been nice."

"Shut your trap, or we'll be spending the night in tents, Jubilee."

~*~*~*~*~*~

"You should be resting," she said with a small smile as she entered the living room, and found the man called Gambit flipping through TV channels. "We're not going to be back until well after the sun comes up and I don't need anyone falling asleep on me."

Gambit raised his eyes to her, and she found herself taken aback by the strange coloring. It might not have been noticeable at a glance if just the iris of his eyes were red and the rest was normal. But that wasn't the case. The entire sclera of his eye was just as black as the pupil itself, brightening the red even more and giving him the look of a devil trying to parade as a human.

"But, Cherie, Gambit not be needing the rest as bad as others, eh? See, Gambit… He be a thief like no other. He used to the late nights… But why not follow your own advice, petite? Why not go crawl into that comfortable bed and rest for awhile?" he asked with a wicked smile. Too bad his habit of talking in the third person seemed to leave her with a horrible case of indigestion. "Gambit be thinking that maybe this Cherie be looking for some company to keep her warm at night, non?"

"Non. Go get some sleep, Gambit. I won't tell you again," Rogue replied as she narrowed her eyes. "And if I find you trying to crawl into my bed under any circumstances, I will hurt you, thief."

"This be because Gambit not all blond and blue-eyed? Because, we brunettes, we know what to do with a woman, too. Some even better than others." Gambit smiled at her again, but she didn't miss the spark behind his demon eyes. "Gambit bet one little kiss that the Chère might like what he know how to do better than those other two the petite seems to prefer hanging around with. If only given the chance."

"I suggest you get the hell out of my sight before I decide to demonstrate exactly why I'm so untouchable," she snapped and let out a growl that reminded her too much of the ones Logan used to use on Jubilee. For a second, she felt the familiar feeling of loneliness grip her heart, but she pushed it aside, focusing on the problem at hand. "And if I hear one more remark about my personal life from you, I will make sure you're never able to satisfy another woman again, Swamp Rat."

~*~*~*~*~*~

"Do we know who it will be yet?" she asked as she picked up the antique silver shell brush from the vanity top, using it to brush through the older woman's hair. "Do we know whose life she will take?"

"No," the older woman replied, shaking her head slightly in spite of her lover's tender brushing. "Most of this vision is out of my reach. But I do see a body, and no blood. Also, there will be others there that night. Those not invited. Rogue must not know that they are there. She must not find out until the right moment. Whoever is to die tonight must be killed. It will give Rogue the strength she needs to be the leader she will become. And she will stop your son, my love. There is no doubt of that."

"But," Mystique whispered slowly as she lowered the brush, "what about those others?"

"They are her friends, although she may not realize it," Destiny replied with a slight smile. "She will have to choose which team she will want to stay with. The two groups are too similar to be forced together for long."

"Too similar to be forced together, Destiny?" Mystique asked slowly as she knelt by the other woman's chair. "What does that mean?"

~*~*~*~*~*~

They had already stopped three muggings and one hate crime against a mutant while they explored the city. Rogue led her team swiftly, keeping a close eye on every member, but especially on Ms. Marvel. It seemed that the blond idiot thought this was the perfect time to cozy up to Sabertooth. Rogue couldn't believe the woman thought that the deep rumble emitting from his throat was an invitation. It seemed as if everyone else in the group took it for what it truly was, a quiet threat. Everyone did their best to keep their distance from the feral mutant in case he lost his control. Rogue just wasn't sure if she had the willpower to stop him from tearing the woman apart.

"Rogue?" Sabretooth growled slowly. "Did you catch that scent?"

She hadn't been paying much attention to her sense of smell. The area they were now in festered with the odor of feces and broken sewer drains. They were in the heart of the mutant ghetto on the north end of town, where most of the hate crimes seemed to happen. Even though this was just a simple run, she still wanted to see what her team could do when unexpectedly confronted with even the most minor situation.

She tuned into her nose and caught what Sabretooth had mentioned just as the feral mutant stalked to the front of the team, forcefully pushing Ms. Marvel away. She turned in horror, not ready to be confronted by the pain she had endured because of the people stalking them now. All she saw was a dark blur as Sabretooth was pushed to the ground from the side.

~*~*~*~*~*~

He had only just caught her scent when he realized the danger she was really in. Turning the corner from the alley he was crouched in, he saw the other feral stalking closer to her, his shoulders hunched and the scent of anger and trepidation practically dripping from his pores. He watched as she turned, clearly seeing the look of horror shadowing her face. He wasn't going to wait to see what happened next.

Jumping as hard as he could, and unleashing the claws embedded in the backs of his hands, he threw his entire body into the tackle, feeling Sabretooth's body topple beneath him, cushioning the fall. He almost missed the shout from the girl he was trying to protect.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Claws unleashed as the two alpha males attacked each other, neither holding back, each just out for the blood of the other. Both were bent on murder.

Logan could feel doubt gripping his soul as he buried his claws into Sabretooth's belly even as the other man dug his own claws into Logan's back. Sabretooth was a psychopath, but he wasn't dumb enough to attack someone out in the open with so many people around. Not unless he was being paid. And from what Logan knew, Sabretooth had dropped out of sight long ago.

He retracted his claws, throwing a punch straight into the other man's face and feeling a cheek bone crunch under his adamantium-laced fist. He would ask questions later, once he knew Rogue was safe and this animal was down.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Victor relished the feel of fighting a matched opponent as he returned each punch and attack. It had been too long since he had last been part of a really good fight against someone who actually stood a chance against him, and he felt familiar muscles reawaken with each movement, enjoying the sensation.

He knew he could stop this at any time. All it would take would be to stop fighting back and let the runt win, but Victor Creed had never been one to just give up. Fighting was his world.

He felt the smaller man impale him through his belly with metal claws even as Victor dug his own claws into his back. He wondered briefly if the man would survive if Victor clawed open the back of his neck, but he pushed the thought aside. This fight wouldn't end in death; the frail meant too much to him to hurt her that way. He wondered briefly if he really was getting soft.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Both men slowly stopped as they heard the girl screaming at them, cursing the situation. Victor knew what she wanted, but Logan continued to fight, using his claws to slice deeply into the bigger man's left arm. Victor concentrated hard to control himself while Logan wondered about what was truly going on here. Neither was fast enough to prevent what happened next.

~*~*~*~*~*~

"No, Logan!" she shouted as she pushed Havok out of her way. She ran to the jumble of limbs and claws rolling around on the ground as the two alpha males began to rip into each other. Within seconds, there was blood everywhere. "Damn it!"

She was too busy trying to tear the two ferals apart to notice the threat coming from behind her. Suddenly she felt herself being lifted far into the air, away from the others. Her body was tossed, caught in midair, and swiftly turned, before strong legs wound around her waist. Her arms were pinned to her sides even as gloved hands encircled her neck and her would-be killer began to squeeze the life out of her.

Rogue struggled as hard as she could, the screams of the team below her barely reaching her ears over the growls and roars of the two feral mutants lost in their own battle, oblivious to everything around them.

Her eyes met those of the woman who was trying to kill her. There was no denying the insanity or purpose they held. Carol was going to murder her.

She could feel the heat coming from the various mutants below them. Her team. They were trying to help her. To save her. There was the heat from Pyro's flames and Havok's blasts. Sparks coming from Gambit's kinetically charged cards. She was positive that even Quicksilver was trying to think of something to help her.

Rogue struggled with her arms, even as her sight began to grow fuzzy and she became disoriented. She knew of only one way out of this, one way to survive this attack. Twisting her body, she managed to pull her right arm out of the hold, her hand coming free of its glove. Without hesitation, Rogue slammed her bare flesh into Carol Danvers' face, holding on with everything she had.

~*~*~*~*~*~

The shouts and threats from the men around them alerted the two feral mutants to the events taking place high in the sky and they watched the struggle from below.

Logan cursed himself for splitting up the group. Angel would have been able to help, but he was currently miles away, and there was no way for him to reach this location in time. As far as Logan knew, it *was* too late.

Victor felt something he couldn't remember ever having experienced before. Guilt and fear for the girl high above the city she had been asked to protect as she was helplessly murdered by a psychopath who was supposed to follow her orders. There was no way to save her, no way to reach that high. All anyone could do was watch.

~*~*~*~*~*~

With a scream, they fell from the sky. Rogue closed her eyes tightly, hoping that Carol's abilities would kick in before they met the ground. She had no idea how to use them; even as they fell back to the city, Rogue wondered if either of them would survive. She could feel a scream pounding in her ears, hearing it even after Carol seemed to lose consciousness. They were almost to the ground now, almost to the end. She braced herself for the inevitable.

~*~*~*~*~*~

He soared through the sky, forgetting to dodge lights and crowded areas. He had seen what was taking place even from five miles away, and instinctively knew who was plunging to the ground. He didn't know about the other woman, but this was the one he had come here for. This was the one he had to protect.

Diving low in their direction, he prayed to a God he had stopped believing in when he was just a boy who was intent on locking himself in the bathroom and sawing off the budding wings that always just grew back.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Their gashes were already healing, even as they scrambled to help the falling girl. No one knew what to do. No one had the power needed to save her.

~*~*~*~*~*~

She opened her eyes quickly even as she felt her body and that of her killer's being plucked from the sky. She found herself staring into a pair of blue eyes, paler than any she had ever seen before. She felt herself become hypnotized, even as he slowly lowered them to the ground, hoping against hope that this wasn't heaven and she had missed her own death.

She turned her gaze, looking around as she finally let go of the cold flesh that was once Carol Danvers, a woman more twisted than anyone could ever have guessed. She was alive, and everyone was focused on her, but she only met the gaze of one man. She found herself dropping the body of the woman who tried to kill her, ignoring the others around her as it landed with a thud on the cold asphalt.

Rogue walked to him as if nothing had happened. Her eyes were hard and her demeanor cold. She heard others join the group of mutants, catching and recognizing their scents, yet she continued to ignore their presence. Instead, she found herself wondering if the man in front of her realized what he had just destroyed.

She was unable to utter a word, though, for it was at that moment that she realized Carol Danvers was now trapped within her mind. The scream in her head reverberated loud enough that she found herself wondering why no one else heard it, even as she fell to the ground, clutching her head between her hands.

She became trapped in her own mind, not noticing the strong hands that scooped her up into safe arms, holding her frigid body against him. Even as her own screams filled the night air, she only wanted it to stop.

~*~*~*~*~*~

"Where the fuck do you think you're taking her, Bub?" Logan demanded even as he unsheathed his claws, ready to strike.

Sabretooth ignored him as he and the other members of his team headed for the van, understanding the urgency of getting her home. He didn't care if the others followed. All that mattered was that they returned to the house.

Logan let out a frustrated growl, knowing that he couldn't just allow the other mutant to disappear. Rogue was going to need help, and he had promised to take care of her, damn it. He needed to keep his promise, even if he suddenly found that she meant more to him now than she had when he made the damn vow.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Psylocke slowly looked over her patient, doing her best to ignore the growls and snarls of the two feral men standing just outside the bedroom door. Making things worse was the presence of not only Mystique, who was currently ringing her hands like a worried mother hen, but also of the human whose sister had been dead before she hit the ground, Savannah Danvers.

But the woman also known as Betsy was not going to worry about that now. Savannah was quiet for the moment, her mind having been sedated. It wasn't going to last forever, but they didn't need another Danvers girl losing her mind tonight.

She looked down into the young mutant woman's face, the calmness on the outside a complete contrast to the pain and turmoil her psychic abilities could feel going on within her head. She would have to do her best to help the girl, but Psylocke knew that she wouldn't be able to do anything without the proper facilities. She would have to be moved.

~*~*~*~*~*~

"I'm taking her to Xavier's institute," Psylocke announced as she closed the door firmly behind her. "On top of everything else, I'm going to need the help of another psychic, and they have the facilities I will need. We'll have to leave as soon as possible. I don't know how much longer she's going to be able to hold on without any assistance."

"I can get you anything you need, Betsy," Mystique interjected before anyone else had a chance to speak. "You can have it here."

Psylocke shook her head slowly, her eyes meeting Mystique's. Both Victor and Logan remained calm, and, for just a moment, she wondered how a mere girl could bring together even the most notorious of enemies. "I'll need restraints, first off. And a real doctor. From what I hear, Henry McCoy has made his home at the mansion, at least part-time. It would save the effort of finding a mutant-friendly doctor we could trust. The institute is the best option."

Mystique nodded once, understanding that there really was no other option. Psylocke looked once more between the two feral mutants. She knew that her other idea wasn't going to go over very well, but there was no other choice. "I'll need Victor, too."

Logan straightened at that, his eyes darkening as his anger grew. "What the hell are you talking about? There is no fucking way we're letting him in the mansion. He'll fucking kill everyone there."

Psylocke shook her head, wishing that he wasn't as thick-headed as he seemed to be. "She needs someone there she can trust, Logan. I'll need him to coax her through this. The two have grown close since they were held in captivity together. She trusts him to take care of her."

"She trusts me, too. I'll take care of her," Logan spat back, his shoulders hunching in defense.

"She hasn't trusted you in a long time, Logan. Not from what I can read in her mind. She's stuck in this coma. She's reliving every horrible moment from the time her mutation began, and she is fighting against every personality she has absorbed, not just Danvers'. Right now, the only one she trusts is Victor. I need him there. And the rest of her team." Psylocke stared him down, knowing that there would be no more arguments. Like Victor, it seemed Logan would give any sacrifice needed to save this girl.

"What about Savannah? We can't just leave her like this," Logan said, pointing out the obvious.

"We're not. Mystique and Destiny will both be here to take care of her."

"When do we leave?" Victor said before any more objections could be made or arguments could erupt.

"How fast can you be ready?"

"Shit," Logan muttered as he went to call Storm and explain the situation to her.


	16. returns and insinuations

It didn't take long to return to the mansion. Logan wasn't surprised to find Storm waiting for them in the landing bay, along with her entire team. Sabretooth still carried Rogue's catatonic form, even though both Logan and Psylocke had protested. Psylocke had wanted to secure her on a gurney in case Carol's psyche emerged, while Logan had simply wanted her out of the psycho's arms.

"Which way?" Sabretooth asked as he stood tall in front of the weather witch.

"I'll show you," Hank McCoy said quickly as he stepped forward. "Colossus, if you will accompany us. Bobby, too."

~*~*~*~*~*~

"I can't believe you allowed that animal in here," Storm said harshly, turning her heated gaze on an angry Wolverine. "What the hell were you thinking?"

"It wasn't his decision." The soft, feminine voice came from the back of the crowd that was slowly filing off the plane. Colossus and Sabretooth had been first, with Logan quickly following. For the first time, Storm noticed that there were more guests than the monster who was now in the infirmary. The woman who spoke was tall, slim, and of Asian ancestry. Her accent was British, making her already beautiful voice seem more elegant. "I insisted. Victor and the girl became very close during the months they were held in captivity together. She is rather fond of him, and as such, he has grown increasingly protective. He will be vital in what must be done if we are going to save the girl."

"Would you all care to introduce yourselves for the benefit of those of us who reside here?" Storm asked, eyeing each person suspiciously. She let her gaze settle on the man with the red devil eyes for a moment, instantly recognizing him for what he truly was. She had grown up on the streets of Cairo, surviving as a young thief before the professor had found her and brought her home. One thing she had never forgotten was how to recognize another thief. She let her gaze finally rest on a face she had known well, his own eyes meeting hers without the trepidation and anger he had felt as a boy living under this same roof. "If you would follow me into the War Room, please."

Storm turned quickly, not allowing anyone the opportunity to argue. "And Logan, I would greatly appreciate it if you joined Beast in the infirmary. I don't trust that animal."

~*~*~*~*~*~

He didn't ask permission before following the feral mutant. He didn't know him at all, but he was sure the man named Logan knew he was close behind; it wasn't like he was trying to be stealthy about it. He followed closely, not caring if his footsteps were too loud or his breathing too labored. He needed to know if she was going to be all right. He cared about her too much not to know.

~*~*~*~*~*~

"You should have stayed with the others, Kid," Logan said slowly as he rounded the corner to the entrance of the lab. He had known the boy had followed him the moment he stepped away from the others, but had also caught a whiff of his pain. It was his scent that kept Logan from turning him back. There was something familiar in his scent, something that matched another he had once known. "This isn't going to be fun."

"I need to know she's alright, she was willing to sacrifice herself to lead us. Victor's not the only one that cares," Havok looked away from the feral's back, gathering his thoughts. He held no contempt for Victor, unlike the man before him, but he also felt the guilt that came with knowing he should have done something to help. If only he had been able.

Logan whirled around, catching the boy off-guard. "What's your name, your real name? I know your scent from - I knew a scent like yours once."

"My name is Alex," Havok replied, watching the war in the man's eyes. He was trying to control his emotions, but was obviously having a hard time. "My brother was Scott Summers. You probably knew him, too."

"Not as well as some of the others around here," Logan replied as his eyes softened, "but yeah, I knew him."

Havok saw a shadow of a smile cross the man's features. "What's so funny?"

"If it wasn't for your scents, I would have never guessed you were even related."

"I don't look much like him?"

"You don't have a stick up your ass," Logan replied as he let the smirk flash for a brief second before opening the door to the infirmary.

~*~*~*~*~*~

"Would one of you like to tell me exactly what is going on? John?" Storm asked quickly once everyone was seated. She mentally noted how much he had changed in the months since she had last seen him on the island. He had lost weight and, although he had always been a bit shifty, she found that his movements were more defensive now. She watched as he hesitated, marking all the exits in the room. He was much paler and his brown eyes seemed almost dull, a broken shadow of the kid she once knew.

He cleared his throat, looking to the other two men who had come in with him for advice. No one said anything, but the looks were clear enough. What choice did they really have?

"Rogue rescued us two weeks ago from an underground lab in the Mojave Desert. There were fifteen mutants in all. Most of them had been taken under the guise of participating in the cure," John flinched at his own words, still finding himself disgusted by the idea, even if he had become a bit more understanding. "These mutants were lucky enough to have people who were looking for them and homes to return to. Rogue and a woman named Carol Danvers were among those kidnapped from around the country. Gambit and Quicksilver were both donated from a prison while I was taken directly to the compound from Alcatraz. Victor had already been captive for a while before this. I couldn't say about Havok…"

"Havok?" Storm asked, her gaze darting to Jubilee who, for once, was quietly sitting to the side.

Jubilee shook her head, not believing how obtuse her teacher could really be. "The blond man who followed Logan to the infirmary. I didn't think there was any reason to stop him. On the ride over here, he was the only one brave enough to sit between Logan and the big kitty cat. I caught him holding Rogue's hand once; I think there was something going on between them."

"So," John interrupted quickly, a familiar smirk marking his lips, "I wonder how Hank is dealing with this."

"What are you talking about?" Storm asked, rubbing her temples with her forefingers. Her headache had been growing exponentially since Logan's call.

John looked around, wondering how he should explain this.

"Remy be thinking that the petite here, she don't understand what she have thrown together," the man with the devil eyes said, his own smirk flashing. "Remy, he be getting what Pyro saying."

Quicksilver couldn't help his own chuckle as he looked around the table. "What they are trying to say is that you have four very powerful, very emotionally invested men in that room. None of who is destined to like each other. I hope you got a plan to get the good doctor out of there."

~*~*~*~*~

"You really think it's safe for the kid to be in here, Runt?" Sabretooth asked with a deadly smirk. Both he and Logan were in the mist of an unspoken truce. Although each was more than a little anxious and wary of the other, neither was willing to do anything that could compromise the girl on the gurney. "If she wakes up and sees him here, well, I don't think it matters which personality is in control."

Logan growled at the bigger man, knowing that his words were true. He looked over to see both Bobby and Havok standing close to the door of the room Rogue was currently being examined in. Although he didn't know Psylocke at all, Logan knew that Rogue was in good hands. Besides Hank watching over her, Colossus was in there, too. He would never allow anything to happen to his friend and teammate. "I'd send him away, but I've got the feeling that it wouldn't go over too well with him or Storm. What's with the other kid?"

"Havok?" Victor asked, arching an eyebrow. "They had a nice little tumble in the sheets. Just friends is what she said, but I got a feeling he thinks it's a little more. Looks like you might have a little more competition than you thought, Runt."

Logan growled again as Victor let loose a quiet chuckle. "I don't know what the fuck you're talking about."

Victor shook his head, lowering his gaze. "You don't got to deny anything. Anyone can see what she means to you. You were never the type to get so caught up in a woman. Especially not one you weren't even fucking, Jimmy."

Logan turned to the other feral mutant, his entire demeanor changing as his focus shifted. He hadn't expected the name, but it was familiar somehow. "What did you call me?"

"Jimmy?" Victor asked slowly as he smirked again. It was obvious that he was toying with the other man. "Wait. What was it you were going by now? Logan? Sorry. Slip of the memory."

Victor laughed softly as he watched the confusion rise in Logan's eyes. Before the smaller man could retort, though, the doors to the infirmary unit opened swiftly.

"We'll finish this conversation later," Logan said with a quick growl, his eyes burning with the anger and hate the man before him aroused. Whatever reason he had for that animosity, it had started long before Logan could remember.

"Looking forward to it, Jimmy," Victor replied with a twisted smirk.


	17. fixations and mutations

_God, he's beautiful_, she thinks as she points out the map on her wall, unaware of the way she keeps rambling on about a stupid trip that even she knows is just a pipedream. Blue eyes and blond hair, athletic, smart and just cocky enough to be sincere, he really is the epitome of the all-American boy. And he is lying here on her bed, watching her point at a stupid map as she continues to ramble.

But that isn't so unusual, is it? This isn't the first time he's ever been in her room. They've known each other for years. Since toddler days spent playing in the sandbox at the park at the elementary school, they had celebrated birthdays and milestones together. Now, here they are, preparing for their senior year in high school and what's going to come next.

So what had changed? Why isn't she looking at this boy she's known for longer than her memory spanned like the brother she always thought of him as?

It was because of the dreams; because he isn't her brother. Not even close. This boy sitting on her bed, on the verge of manhood, this boy that her parents trust enough to allow in her room alone without checking on them, this boy has invaded her heart in a way she had never thought possible. He makes her stomach knot, and her brain malfunction with the simplest look. And he makes her heart ache with doubt that he even sees her as a girl.

"So when do you plan on taking this adventure?" Cody asks as she bounces back onto the bed next to him.

Suddenly shy, she looks away, shrugging lightly. She can't even remember what she had actually said. It isn't a real trip, just an idea, even if the thumbtacks mark each town she would stop in. "I don't know… After graduation, before college."

She only knows that she is hoping that he will kiss her. They are close together now, only a breath away, really. All it would take would be for him to lean in just a little. It isn't until his lips are on hers that she realizes she isn't imagining it. He wants to kiss her as much as she wants him to. The kiss grows deeper, and she can feel everything - even what he's feeling. She pulls away fast, realizing that his lips are no longer responsive. Gasping, she watches his body lose all animation and collapse, before going into seizure.

She screams as she jumps from the bed, not even realizing her parents are by her side until her mother tries to reach for her. But she doesn't want to hurt her, so she screams again.

~*~*~*~*~*~

"That was your first kiss?" the psychic projection in her mind asks as the memory unfolds in her mind. It's strange, watching her own memories like this; almost as if they're just movies, precisely scripted. Beside her, Psylocke too watches the memories.

Rogue says nothing, and just continues to watch each projection.

~*~*~*~*~*~

She's on her own now, hitchhiking across the country on Interstate 70, just past the Colorado border, slowly making her way north. It has been three months since she left home. Three months since she put the only boy who had shown any interest in her in a coma and her parents had stopped speaking to her.

She is currently in the cab of a truck headed to California. The driver smells of greasy food and something chemical. He also has the look of a man who hadn't slept in three days and is going for more. He's definitely flying high on something. She's pretty sure it comes in a little baggie, maybe still in rock form, but doesn't ask questions. Already, it's nearly December and getting colder every day. The rides are coming further and further apart.

She doesn't trust this driver; something about him makes the hair on back of her neck stand up. She's not sure if it's because he's driving the rig like a bat out of hell and might kill them any moment, or if it's the way he keeps sidling glances at her, flashing a smile warped and decayed by twenty years of bad hygiene and worse drugs.

She didn't even want to get in with him when he offered her the ride, but there was no one else and she had been walking forever. Plus, Denver is coming up soon. She's going to get off there and start traveling north on I-25. She might stop for a while and find a job, make some more money before the summer. She still has some money from the job she took back in Arkansas, but not enough. She had spent too much time there, too.

Not enough money in that crappy little bar, but the owner hadn't cared much about her age, and they were one of the few mutant-friendly places, if you want to call a job that pays 50 bucks a day with shared tips and ten-hour days, seven days a week mutant-friendly. She had stayed there for two months without any hassle, but only because of the mutant she had bunked with: a man called Bear.

Close to eight feet tall with shaggy brown hair, yellow eyes, sharp teeth and hands that were really like a brown bear's paws. He was a good man, though and had never tried anything with her. More importantly, he refused to accept a dime from her, so she was able to save almost every cent she earned, with the exception of buying a new pair of shoes and food. But then Bear disappeared and she knew she had to go before she did the same. Plus, she didn't want to be around when summer hit; she would have to be in Alaska before spring. She's sure that she could get away with covering up there year-round. From what she's heard, Alaska is more supportive of mutants living there.

He's doing it again, leering at her with the rotting smile of a man with a sick mind. She wishes that she had just kept walking. It would have been better than putting up with this. Someone else may have come along, but then again, she might have just frozen in the snow.

"We'll be in Denver by morning," he says quickly as his eyes wander up and down her body. She feels like she's going to vomit from the come-hither look in his eyes. She can't wait to find a cheap room so that she can shower off the grime his looks are leaving behind.

"Great. I'll get off there," she says with what she hopes is a sweet smile. Maybe he won't do anything to her. Maybe he'll just let her off at a motel and be gone. He hasn't asked her any personal questions, and she is secretly relieved she didn't have to lie again. Maybe she should have taken that as a sign.

He chuckles now, a sound that makes her heart beat faster. He's up to something; she can see it clear as day. "Well, now, maybe it's a good time to talk about repayment."

She looks at him, shocked by his words. Nobody had asked for payment before. She had a little money left, a couple hundred dollars. She had left Arkansas with about $2500, but that was a month back, and even cheap motels get expensive. Plus, she had to buy this green cloak, since she didn't have anything really warm and this was all she could afford. She's down to around $450. Maybe he just wants some lunch money or something. But the look in his eyes is telling her something else.

"There's a little rest stop just off the next exit. We'll stop there." He's smiling now. She doesn't even think he is talking to her anymore, but planning it all out in his head. She has to find a way out of this before he does something. Before he gets off the interstate.

She's wearing her seatbelt. He's not. The idea forms quickly: if she just reaches out and touches him… She's not sure what will happen or if it is even going to work. She's not entirely sure she'll survive. But, it's sure as hell better than going out like _that_. Plus, it's not like they're on a highway. It's the interstate, nothing but land around them. They're not in any cities or towns yet and it is late enough that there aren't any other people on the road.

Taking off her left glove, hoping that he's too lost in thought to notice, she reaches for him and grabs his face, holding on. The seizures start right away and they begin to swerve.

She hopes there isn't anyone coming even as the rig drives off the road and flips. She finally lets go. She screams and closes her eyes even as she feels the rig stop, on its side now with the driver's door on the ground, and Charlie's lifeless body pressed against it. At least he's not looking at her.

She's still in her seat, unharmed. Seatbelts. She'll have to remember that.

~*~*~*~*~*~

"That was the second time you touched someone after your mutation manifested?" Psylocke asked as the memory began to fade.

"Yes," Rogue's mind whispers back, a good sign to the telepath. "He was dirty and an animal, but… He wasn't the monster I thought he was."

"You got his thoughts? His memories?"

"I wasn't the first hitchhiker he had picked up," Rogue said slowly, everything around her still in black. She couldn't see the other woman, but that didn't mean she wasn't there. Rogue just hadn't thought it necessary to give the other woman a physical form in her mind. "He slept with a few, but never forced them. He was proud of that. If a hitcher didn't want to sleep with him, well he would just threaten to leave them by the side of the road. If they still didn't give in, he would make good on his threat."

"What happened next?" She knew that the younger woman didn't want to talk about the memory anymore, but Psylocke still had to find a way to bring her around.

"I ran."

She was watching another memory.

~*~*~*~*~*~

_Safe_, she thinks, as she looks him over after jumping into the cab of the small truck. It's the first time she's been able to truly identify that word with someone, even if he is the Wolverine.

"Put your hands…" He's reaching for her hands, her gloveless hands. How could she be so damn stupid? She knows he's a mutant, too, but that doesn't mean that he is going to accept her own mutation.

She pulls away quickly, swallowing the scream that is threatening to choke her.

"I'm not gonna hurt you, Kid," he says with confidence, mistaking her actions for fear of him.

"It's nothing personal, it's just, when people touch my skin… They get hurt."

~*~*~*~*~*~

"I don't want to see that," Rogue whispers as the memory fades again.

Psylocke is stunned by how easily she stops the flow. She hadn't realized the girl was able to control it herself. She had thought they were watching all of this for a reason, maybe these were things Rogue had to see again.

But now, Psylocke wondered if these were things Rogue wanted her to see, to help her understand.

~*~*~*~*~*~

There were more memories, more uses of her skin. When she ran away from the mansion after absorbing Logan's healing abilities. When she was on top of the statue. The only kiss she had shared with Bobby and when she had stolen Pyro's flame.

But these memories swirled by in a hurry. Nothing that they saw here made a difference.

~*~*~*~*~*~

"Shhhh…" She's in her cell, being pinned down again by the five men who love to torture her. This isn't the first time she's been raped by them, and it won't be the last.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Psylocke released her hold slowly, not wanting to send the girl into further shock. She felt the moisture of tears clouding her eyes, and did little to hold them back. She had seen the rapes, or what Rogue had wanted to show her, and had felt the honesty. And she had seen what had happened afterward, when she was given to Victor like an old chew toy. She had seen enough after that.

"Colossus. Will you ask Logan and Victor to come in here, please?" she asked lowly, her accent sharpening as she struggled to control herself.

The young man didn't answer, but simply nodded and headed for the door.

Beast watched him walk away before turning toward the Asian. He cleared his throat, getting her attention from wherever her mind had wandered. "Are you sure that's wise? I mean they aren't the best of acquaintances, you know."

"Yes, I know, but she needs them. I'm afraid that… I don't think she wants to live any longer, Dr. McCoy." Psylocke paused, collecting her thoughts. "She's been through so much since her mutation manifested, so much pain. I think she… I think she's waiting for Carol to take over. I don't think Rogue wants to keep trying."

"And you think those two will be able to pull her through?" Hank asked, somewhat startled. He had been given the opportunity to get to know Logan a little better, and found the feral man had more depth than he first anticipated. But he wasn't so sure about Sabretooth.

"They're the only ones. I'm not sure about Logan, though; he's let her down so many times. But Victor has a good chance, she trusts him."

~*~*~*~*~*~

They filed into the room, Logan walking in first in case Victor decided to attack. He would be in danger, yes, and every instinct he had told him not to do it, but he would also be between her and the monster.

"Can you help her?" Logan asked slowly, his gaze locking on the Asian woman.

She sighed, turning away. "I believe we can, but it's not going to be easy. She's got all of Carol in her mind now, and Rogue doesn't really care what happens to her. She's not going to fight the other woman off when Carol is ready to seize control."

"Why hasn't she already?" Victor asked, ignoring the way Logan seemed to tense at the sound of his voice. He was careful not to go too close to the bed, lest the smaller man feel threatened. He wouldn't put the frail in that kind of position.

Psylocke shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know. I didn't even see her in there. It could be that she's still trying to adapt, or it could be Rogue hasn't made up her mind, as she has led me to believe, and is holding her back. Rogue didn't tell me any of this. She really didn't tell me anything, actually. She just kept going through her old memories, showing me moments in her life. I'm not even sure if this is what she really means, but it's the only reason I can think of that she would insist on sharing those moments with me."

"So what can be done to help her?" Logan asked, his eyes falling to the still form on the bed. She looked so small, so helpless.

"I have an idea, but I will need to contact another telepath and get her opinion. And, I will need her help with this," Psylocke said ruminated. She had doubts that it would work. "If it does show any kind of promise, you will both be needed. I should have an answer for you by the end of tomorrow night."

~*~*~*~*~*~

"Logan, may I speak with you?" Beast asked as he hurried after the two feral men quietly leaving the examination room. It was apparent that they were doing their best to keep their mutual hostility to a minimum, and the good doctor applauded their efforts, but that didn't hide the animosity.

Logan turned, keeping his eye on Victor. "Not now, Beast. I've got to babysit."

"Sit on this," Victor replied, raising his middle finger and growling at the smaller man.

"This is important. And, actually, Mr. Creed, I may need to ask you a few questions, as well," Best said, looking between them. "How many times have you each touched Rogue while her powers were active?"

Logan thought for a moment, unsure what this had to do with anything. "Four or five times, I guess. The first time when I accidentally stabbed her." He heard the growl Victor emitted, but chose to ignore it. "When I saved her on that damn statue, and a couple of times while we were running training sessions. The last time, I was trying to get her to use her abilities more aggressively, and she dropped me. I was out for a few days."

"And did you, Mr. Creed, ever have cause to lend Rogue your mutation?" Beast asked slowly, turning his attention.

"Yeah, once. When we escaped from that lab in Nevada," Victor replied gruffly. "We came up with this plan to escape that involved her getting hurt. We were trying to get my collar taken off. They took hers off instead. She lost a lot of blood setting the others free. By the time we were somewhere safe enough for me to pass out, too, she was barely there. I was out for a week after that one."

Logan held back his own growl, not wanting to sink to the same level as the other man. He still didn't understand what this was about, though.

"Well," Beast said, looking back to the chart he carried in his hand, "it would seem that while Rogue's unique transmutation not only scrounges the mutant augmentation from those she comes into contact with that carry exceptional gifts, it also amalgamates those abilities and incorporates them into her own DNA if a sufficient amount is absorbed."

"Meaning?" Logan asked slowly, wishing not for the first time that there were an interpreter present. Victor's eyes had simply glazed over.

"Well, in English, as you would say," Beast said, clearing his throat indignantly, "meaning that Rogue's mutation seems to have borrowed from both your and Mr. Creed's combined healing abilities and enhanced senses enough times that both have become embedded in her own DNA."

"She's a healer now?" Victor asked, catching up with the blue mutant.

"A feral mutant, actually. Minus the claws since that part of your mutations seems to differ and this has come about through both of your abilities." Beast looked from one to the other.

"Well, that explains it," Victor chuckled. Beast and Logan looked at him, both sets of eyes full of questions.

"Before all this happened, she couldn't figure out why she still had my mutations. Why nothing had faded," Victor explained, a bitter smile on his face. "She's going to live as long as us now, isn't she?"

"Yes," Beast agreed slowly.

"Wonder how long it's going to be before the animal gets to her and she loses her mind, too."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Logan asked, holding his temper back with effort.

"You and me." The smile left his face as he looked at Logan questioningly. "You don't think we've both been like this since the beginning, do you? This kind of insanity, this kind of animal instinct - it takes years to hone this. You really don't remember anything, do you, Jimmy?"

Victor didn't wait for a reply. He only chuckled sadly, turning and walking away to find a bed to sleep in.


	18. Fantasy And Memory

"She's not going to be very cooperative," the tall blonde said softly as she spoke with the small group sitting around the occupied hospital bed. Psylocke found herself only half-listening as her lingering gaze shifted back and forth between the two feral mutants on the other side of the bed. The girl lay between them all, lost inside herself. Psylocke found herself wondering if Rogue was listening in on the conversation taking place around her, but doubted it.

She rolled her eyes for the hundredth time since the meeting began. They had already been through all of this, but for whatever reason, Emma Frost felt she had to validate her point.

"Can we please get on with it," Psylocke found herself growing increasingly impatient as her friend droned on and on. They had known each other for going on ten years now. Both had been young and smart, attending the same college and finding each other in many of the same classes. Neither had really given each other a second thought until they both realized one other aspect of their lives that they shared. Both were mutants. Psychic mutants.

But while Psylocke was a bit more reserved and quiet, Emma Frost seemed to flaunt everything about herself. She easily took control of any situation and regularly manipulated any event to satisfy her own needs. More often than not, Psylocke found herself to be the more stable of the two.

"Fine, fine," Emma replied, waving her hand in the air. Psylocke shifted in her seat, watching as the other woman made herself comfortable in the chair at the foot of the bed. "While Psylocke should have no trouble assisting Victor's consciousness, it seems it will be more difficult for you. She may not be so accepting of you. While Psylocke will take create a bridge for Victor, I will keep you anchored and stop her from forcing you out. Just understand that if she wants you out badly enough, I will not be able to prevent it."

"Fine. Now how are we going to do this?" Logan asked impatiently, not really caring about the particulars of the process.

He soon found himself strapped to a hospital bed just a few feet from Victor, with Rogue lying between both men. He would do anything to put her in a less dangerous situation, but as it was, he really had no choice.

"The straps are for your safety. If Rogue pushes your consciousness from her mind, you may seizure. While I know both of you are healers, this just makes it easier on both Psylocke and myself to hold a connection with you. If you seize, we will be able to mentally assist and help pull you out of it," Emma explained as she sat on a chair just above Logan's head. Psylocke did the same with Victor, and both feral mutants soon found their minds being entered by telepaths.

All the while, Hank, Colossus, and Angel stood by and watched, waiting for any problem, medical or otherwise, that might reveal itself.

~*~*~*~*~*~

"Just relax, Logan. You haven't done anything yet," her voice was full of amusement, and Logan found himself growing a bit irritated with her. "If you don't calm yourself, this isn't going to be easy."

"I thought shit like this wasn't supposed to be easy," Logan snapped as he looked across the room to where Victor and Psylocke were positioned on the other side of Rogue. Victor's eyes were closed and his breathing had evened out, as if he were lost in a dead sleep. Psylocke's own eyes were also closed as her hands rested against the murderous mutant's temple. Her brows were furrowed in deep concentration and Logan found himself unable to decide if she looked like she was in pain or just constipated.

He felt the light slap against the side of his cheek as he chuckled to himself. Obviously Ms. Frost was already somewhat linked to his head. "Would you just knock it off and concentrate? Or do you really want him running around in Rogue's head? Psylocke's just acting as a bridge, remember? She can't control what he does."

Those words got to him. He hated to admit it, but the woman was right. He let out a slow growl in the general direction of the other feral mutant before closing his eyes and putting every effort into relaxing his mind.

He felt the pull without feeling his body move. The sensation was strange and not completely unpleasant. There was no pain involved, but it was something he wasn't too sure he wanted to try again.

Opening his eyes, he found himself standing next to what looked like part of a calm river. To his left flowed a small fall of crystal clear water. There was nothing but greenery all around; ferns and wild grass, trees that reached high above his head. Wildflowers were strewn about all over, and for a moment, he felt that something this perfect could only be found in the movies. It was nature at her most beautiful, and he felt he could get lost here.

"What do you want?"

The voice came from behind him, and he found himself wondering why he hadn't caught any scent as he turned around to face whoever had been able to sneak up behind him.

She was watching him with a furrowed brow, unable to hide her anger and loathing.

"Hey, Rogue," he said slowly, watching her squirm a little. She was clearly uncomfortable with his presence, though he suspected that it had more to do with her recognition of him than anything else.

She was dressed in very little, a scrap of shirt that barely reached the bottoms of her breasts and a pair of cut-offs that ended just under the curve of her behind. She looked how he knew she would again in just another year or so, the baby fat gone and her features sharpened, but with a certain softness. Her stomach was flat, and her curves had filled out, especially at the swell of her bust.

Her hair was hanging loose, its wildness only adding to her beauty. Her feet were bare, and he found himself wondering if she was what poets and writers thought of when they envisioned pixies and fairies.

"You know who I am. I can see it in your eyes." He wanted to growl and shake her. And he wanted to pull her close and never let her go again. He wanted to protect her. He knew why she had come to him like this. She had never known the freedom to dress and act how she wanted before. Even when her mutation first manifested, she had been subjected to her parents scrutiny. This was a sign of the freedom she had never known.

"Why are you here, Logan?"

~*~*~*~*~*~

He opened his eyes and found himself standing in a house painted white with a wraparound porch and huge bay windows. There was a tire swing in the front yard, hanging lifelessly in the stillness of the southern summer day. He could distinctly hear a tune from a piano floating from the house, although he couldn't place the music. The laughter of a woman soon followed.

"Are you going to come in, Victor?" He heard the voice call to him and knew exactly who it was. He smiled slowly, walking towards the house.

Opening the door, he listened to the creak of its hinges as it swung inward. He looked to his left as he entered, the same direction he could hear the piano music coming from. A woman in her early forties sat at an old, scarred piano, playing along as if nothing was taking place around her. She had long brown hair that curled and hung loosely down her back. She was facing him, but her focus was on the piano in front of her and she had yet to acknowledge his presence.

Although her face was shrouded by the shadow of the curtain to her right, he could clearly see her features. Past the lines age and a hard life had given her, he could see the beauty she once was. There was a sadness around her mouth that was just subtle enough to go unnoticed by those who didn't know where to look, and yet he had a feeling her entire face would light up when she gave a genuine smile. It wasn't her appearance he found most startling, though, but the familiarity. He instinctively knew that when she looked up, he would be staring into deep brown eyes. There might even be sadness there, too.

"Victor." The whisper came from the direction of the stairs to his right. He turned to see a woman standing at the top, crooking her finger, beckoning him. "She's not going to notice you. Come on, I've got something to show you. You're going to love this."

~*~*~*~*~*~

"You gonna come back to us anytime soon, darlin'?" Logan asked slowly, not answering her question. It was strange to see her looking so young. Once upon a time, he would never have believed she could be so young. Even during that initial meeting, he had thought her older than she appeared. Her eyes had always shown wisdom only acquired through harsh experience.

Even now, he realized she wasn't as young as she was trying to be. She could change her physical appearance as much as she wanted, into whatever she desired, but she couldn't change her eyes.

"Why the hell should I come back? What do I have that I need to come back to?" Rogue asked incredulously as she crossed her arms over her chest, leaning against the tree to her left. "There's nothing left there for me, you know. Everyone's either moved on and forgotten about me or they don't want me around anyway."

"That's not tr-…"

Rogue cut him off. "I'm not stupid, Logan. I've lived for years without being able to touch anyone, but that doesn't mean that I can't read them. Bobby's moved on. Hell, he moved on before I even left. Storm's too busy to even notice, and even if she did, she probably wouldn't give a fuck anyway. Nothing's wrong with me, my ass! I was the outcast in a mansion full of freaks. I couldn't even control my mutation." Her eyes were full of hate and vehemence, and in that moment, he saw the revulsion she felt for herself.

"Scott couldn't control his mutation, either," Logan replied slowly, trying to show her that there were others like her. "And Storm has to have complete control over her emotions. Hell, even Jean…"

"Don't say her name to me," Rogue hissed lowly, interrupting him. "She's the whole reason I don't want to be out there. I don't want to be that monster. That's what I have to look forward to, you know. A lifetime of suppressing my mutation long enough to lose my fucking mind."

He winced as she cursed. Just imagining the pain was almost unbearable.

"Storm has her emotions under control; she's worked hard, but she's gotten there. And Scott, you're right, he had to wear those stupid glasses all the time, but there was a reason why he had no control. But me, not even the greatest telepath the world has ever fucking known could help me, and now he's dead."

Logan waited quietly, understanding that she wasn't looking for answers but venting her anger. This was something she needed.

"Now I have forever to look forward to living like this, longer than you or Victor. I get to live forever wandering the earth like a vagabond, hidden in the shadows beneath cloth to keep everyone at a distance. And when the earth ends, I'll probably still be stuck just outside the white gates, cursed and unwanted by either Heaven or Hell. And I won't even be able to kill myself." She was close to shouting now, and he reached for her without thinking, pulling her close to his body.

"I won't let that happen to you," Logan whispered softly. He wanted to hold her close and soothe away all her pain, give her something to hold on to, just as he had a lifetime ago, when they were both sitting on a train that could have been heading anywhere. Too late, he realized his mistakes.

"You're a fucking liar," she growled at him as she pushed herself from his embrace. He didn't know what to say to that, startled by the anger twisting her features. "You're the worst one. You promised me you would take care of me, and then a week later, you turn around and leave. If I hadn't caught you at the door, you wouldn't have even said goodbye. Just a postcard here and there, just to say hey."

"I called, too," he said defensively, trying to grasp at something. "I always asked how you were doing."

"You never asked me. Not once when you called did you actually talk to me, Logan. You asked Xavier and you asked Jean. Hell, you even talked to Scott at least once, but you never uttered a word to me." It was apparent she was having a hard time controlling her emotions, but he had a feeling that she had been bottling everything up for far too long to be able to stop the flow. Everything would spill out now, and all he could do was shut up and hope that she felt better when it was over. "And when you come back, I get barely a hug and an introduction to my 'boyfriend' in before you forget that I'm even in the room. But that was when she walked in, so I guess I can understand that. But what about later? I had to beg the guys to go back for you, but you were so caught up in your past, you were ready to turn us over to the military."

"You wouldn't understand," he growled back at her, his own words heated at this point. He had been able to accept everything she said before this point, but she had pushed it too far now. "That was my past. Stryker was the only person who could have given me answers to who I was."

"Was, Logan. Who you were isn't important anymore. Don't you get that?" Her voice had lowered and now he saw that she was hugging herself. "What are you going to do if you find out who you were isn't anything like who you're trying to be now? What if you find out that you weren't much different from all the bogeymen out there you've trained us to fight? Will you be able to live with yourself? It's been almost two decades, Logan. Haven't you considered that you might not want to remember who you were?"

The thought had occurred to him, of course, but the way she said it, the raw emotion in her voice… He suddenly found himself wondering if she knew more than she was telling him. But he was too afraid to ask.

"This isn't about me, Rogue. I promised to protect you. I want to keep that promise," Logan said slowly, reaching a hand out to her, hoping that she would understand the emotions he was still unable to voice. "I'm asking you to come back. Let me take care of you again. Hell, I'm in here with Sabretooth of all people…"

"I know," she said slowly, shocking him. He hadn't realized she knew what was happening. "He's here, too, in another thought; a memory, actually. You're in one of my fantasy places, one that I used to dream about as a child. Usually, there are all sorts of animals, but I guess they fear the animal in you, too. Or maybe it's the one in me."

"How do you know he's here?"

"It's my head, Logan. I can feel all of you."

~*~*~*~*~*~

"What the hell are you doing?" Victor asked with a growl as he followed the woman into the first bedroom. He felt himself grow anxious as he came to a stop in the door, taking in the sight of a seventeen-year-old girl's room. The figures of a boy and a girl who were clearly attracted to each other lay on the bed, side by side. The boy looked clean-cut and fresh, as if he had just stepped out of a magazine. The girl was wearing a pink strappy top that left her shoulders and arms bare. When she turned her head, Victor realized it was Rogue, but it was before her mutation manifested, before she became The Rogue.

"This is the best part," the woman at his side squealed, drawing his attention to the interaction unfolding in front of him. A little harmless flirting between two kids too naive to know better. A glance away, coyly done and only enduring because of its innocent, a kiss that turned into something a little deeper.

He knew what this was even before the boy on the bed began to seize: her first kiss. As he watched, Victor felt himself grow physically ill. His stomach seemed to turn with the rage and guilt he felt at witnessing such a private image. He wanted to kill the woman at his side for showing him this, but even he knew that he was partly to blame. He should have walked away.

"What the fuck, Carol!?" Victor roared as he reached for the woman, grabbing her by the throat and slamming her head hard enough against the door that he could have sworn he heard the wood split. Of course, he already knew that there would be no marks, no indication of what had happened. The sound was only in his head. "Why would you show me this? What the fuck kind of sick pleasure do you get out of watching this?"

"I get to see her in pain," Carol replied as her smile twisted. "I get to see her hurt someone else like she hurt me, and watch her suffer for it. She took my fucking life, Victor. She killed me and trapped me in here, in her head, to suffer for as long as she lives."

"You tried to kill her," Victor replied, his voice a low threatening growl, but she showed no real fear of him. "She only defended herself."

"She still did this to me. She didn't have to hold on so long. She could have let go at any time. She had my flying abilities and my strength within the first second of contact. She didn't have to hold on." Carol was practically screaming now, and Victor found himself wondering how he ever could have found her attractive.

He dropped her to the floor, understanding dawning on him as she pulled her knees to her chin, hiding inside herself. "This is going to sound really bad coming from someone like me, Carol, but you should know. You're fucking insane. If you were still alive, I'd tell you to get some help. And, if I were you, I wouldn't try to take over this body. If you do, I might have to kill you."

"Would you be able to? Even if I looked like her?" Carol asked through her tears, her body shaking with the sobs of a broken woman.

"For her? In a heartbeat."

~*~*~*~*~*~

They stood that way for a moment, Logan staring at her, Rogue staring at his offered hand. He knew she was fighting with herself, trying to decide what she really wanted. For just a second, he saw the battle in her eyes, and wondered if the girl he had once picked up all those years ago still lived within the woman before him.

He felt a surge of happiness when she reached out and took his hand, accepting his offer. She didn't just come to him, though; she plastered her body against his. Although he couldn't catch her scent, he could practically feel the lust and sexuality oozing from her. She smiled at him, a smile that held none of the innocence that he had always associated with her.

Bringing her mouth close to his as she wrapped his arms around her waist, she nipped at his lips, teasing his mouth with her tongue. He felt his own arousal begin to stir, and wondered for a brief second whether it was his own emotion or hers.

"A lot's changed in the past couple months, Logan. I've learned a few things," Rogue said, her voice low and sultry, her accent thick.

Logan wasn't sure what she was talking about. All he kept thinking about was the way her body felt pressed against his, how well it fit. "What's that, darlin'?"

"I've learned that I can take control of my life," Rogue replied with a smile as she scrapped her teeth along his jaw line. "And I've learned that I don't need you to protect me anymore."

He didn't know what to say to that. She pushed herself away from him again, this time turning and walking away. She stopped just out of his reach, turning and looking back at him. This time, her eyes were full of remorse and regret. "I don't need you anymore, Logan."

She turned away, disappearing into the dense trees surrounding them.

"But I need you," Logan whispered in an aching voice just as he was forced from her mind.

The room was silent as both men stirred at the same time. Neither had expected what they were confronted with, and both psychics had witnessed everything.

"Carol won't take over," Victor said first once they were both untied, his voice low.

"She's content with spending eternity inside Rogue's memories. She's broken."

"I got the feeling that she's slowly accepting the fact that she won't live again," Psylocke added before questioning could begin.

Everyone turned back to Logan, Psylocke and Victor both wanting answers, Emma unable to hide her pity for the man.

"Rogue will come back," was all he said before leaving, letting Emma make the decision whether to tell the others everything. At that point, he didn't care if Victor decided to go on a murderous rampage. He just didn't care anymore.


	19. Awakening

Three days later, she opened her eyes and found herself completely alone in a dark hospital room. Though there were no clocks or windows to indicate it, she knew that it was still night. There was no doubt in her mind that it was just before dawn. It was her animal instinct kicking in.

At first, her body tightened, lost in a nightmare that she had been captured again. She could feel a new entity within her, growling and pushing her to fight for escape, even if it meant her death. Had anyone been in the room with her during those first moments of blurred awareness, she might not have been able to hold back.

Then everything quickly came back to her. The room around her was familiar and almost welcoming. It was the same room she had sat in after Logan had given her his life on top of that statue, waiting for him to wake up. She had been half in love with him then, half in awe. Had never known someone so deep and harsh before, someone in so much pain and so angry at the world. And she had allowed herself to fantasize about being the girl who could capture his attention and bring him the happiness he was searching for.

But she was still a naïve young girl then, even with all the men running rampant in her mind. She had still willed herself to believe in happily ever after and gentlemen in fancy armor with white steeds. She had still believed that there was hope for a normal life, even with her mutation. She wasn't a naïve young girl anymore.

As she thought about those days, sitting beside his bed, waiting for him to wake, being dragged to do other things by Bobby and a reluctant John, she found herself becoming more and more angry. She would have given him everything, and instead, he had turned to another woman. A woman, who could not only touch, but was beautiful and elegant; one who had none of the innocence of a child, and who was sure of herself. A woman who was already spoken for.

Rogue wondered if it would have hurt less if he had fallen for Storm. Would she still be this bitter and angry? She hoped not, but there was no definitive answer. With Storm, Rogue could see the attraction. She was beautiful and elegant, like Jean, but also scarred and flawed. Of course, Jean had scars too, but she had been sheltered and coddled, first by her own family, and then again by Professor Xavier and Scott.

Jean had been given everything she could possibly want to make up for what she had lost, while Rogue and Storm had both been left to fend for themselves. But to make her even more irresistible, the telepath had been given the love and devotion of two men, both as different from each other as possible, both willing to give their lives for her. Rogue had only found love filled with shame. Even Bobby hadn't truly loved her. She was tired of seeing the pity in everyone's eyes as she passed them in the halls. She was tired of being 'poor Rogue'.

As she sat up in the hospital bed, feeling the nerves in her legs reawaken, Rogue felt a smile play on her lips. Soon enough they would know that she was no longer the poor little Rogue. She would never again have to endure anyone's pity.

~*~*~*~*~*~

"Ah!" Beast exclaimed as he entered the room, surprised to find his patient awake and already sitting up. It wasn't much of a shock, though. He had known that she would just need to take her own time to come back to them.

Rogue gave the doctor a genuine smile, relaxing at the sight of the big, blue man. She had always respected the man before her, even more so after she had witnessed him defending the cure to Storm.

"And how are you feeling this morning?" He stopped at her bedside, keeping his attention solely on her even though she knew that he was anticipating checking her vitals.

"Good, Dr. McCoy. Better." She didn't want to give too many details.

He smiled at her answer, understanding her desire for privacy. "I do have to ask you a few important questions. Just to be positive that everything is how it seems."

"You want to make sure that I'm really me, and not one of the other people running around in my head," Rogue stated quickly, shaking her head slightly. She understood perfectly, and considering the maniacs she had stowed away within her mind, she really couldn't blame them.

"Exactly," Hank replied, looking at his chart. He was happy to find that she not only understood, but had no hostility or offence in her voice. "Now, first off, can you tell me your name? Your birth name?"

"That's not something you would know anyway," Rogue replied slowly, waiting for his reaction. She had never given anyone her full name since she had left home. The few people who knew her by any name other than Rogue only knew her as Marie. He wouldn't find that information in any file that she knew about, and if he did, there would be hell to pay.

"Alright, let's try something else," Hank said slowly, realizing by looking through the chart that the girl was right. Absently, he wondered if there were any other people here who had never given such important information. That would have to be taken care of, even if it meant fake documentation for some of the students.

"The last time I saw you, Hank, I was being reassured by Storm that there was nothing wrong with me, that I didn't need the cure. Then you said something about not shedding on the couch." Rogue allowed another smile to shine through as she spoke, unable to hide her gratitude.

He remembered the incident well, realizing that the conversation had been a catalytic moment in the days that followed. Rogue would realize how important that memory was for all of them. Anyone else in her head would probably just look past it, considering their own opinions on the cure. "Very good. Now, all of your tests have shown positive indications concerning the state of your physical health…"

"Of course they would," Rogue said slowly, interrupting him before he could start making any speeches. "I do have a healing factor now. Any damage that could have been caused would have healed almost instantaneously."

"Correct," Hank said slowly, surprised that she already had this information.

"I've suspected this for a while now. Ever since I got that boost from Victor after the escape. What I don't understand is why it would happen now," she said slowly. "Does this mean that my mutation is still evolving?"

"Actually, it's not so much continuing to evolve as it is imprinting," Hank explained slowly. "You already understand how your mutation works. How coming into any physical contact with another person results in the…"

"The absorption of memories, abilities, and even some physical and personality traits," Marie interjected, growing impatient. She had been over this numerous times with not only the resident psychics, but the blue doctor himself. "I know all that. Tell me what I don't know."

"Alright," Hank replied slowly, realizing that the girl had probably just stopped him from rambling. "What we hadn't realized was that when you absorb another person, certain aspects of their DNA becomes encoded with your own. Usually, that DNA encoding is not strong enough to last. The longer you hold on, the stronger the imprinting is. You don't always retain these abilities. Now, consider the case of the Danvers woman. You kept physical contact with her longer than anyone else before. Parts of her DNA have permanently imprinted on yours. Because of this, you will continue to retain the mutant abilities of this woman."

"Then why haven't I lost the feral mutations?" Rogue asked slowly, grasping what he was saying. "I didn't touch either man that long."

"That's where your mutation twists. You see, when you have imprinted the DNA into your system, you actually keep most of the strand you absorb. Each time you absorb the same mutation, you keep a little more. The more often you come into contact, the more you copy, the stronger the bond becomes. Until eventually, as with your feral mutations, you completely copy and maintain what was previously absorbed." He couldn't tell whether or not she had understood what he was trying to explain, but he could see that she was processing what he was telling her.

"So, basically, the more I touch a person, the more I keep, until eventually, everything becomes permanent," Rogue said slowly, more to herself than to him. "Why didn't this happen the last time I touched Logan, whom I have touched multiple times? Why did it happen when I touched Victor, whom I've only touched with my mutation on once?"

"That is what is unique to your mutation," Hank replied, continuing his explanation. "While the two men are not related in any way, they are bonded by the fact that they share the same mutations, rapid healing and heightened senses. Because they share these mutations, they do share some of the same DNA and genetic structure, so coming into direct physical contact with both men as often as you have has caused you to retain most of their mutations. You haven't developed their more physical mutations yet, though, such as their unique claws. That is one aspect that, while similar in both men, is not completely identical."

"So if I touch Logan with my mutation on a couple more times, I would have bone claws?" Rogue asked slowly, not really thinking about what she was saying.

Hank looked at her quizzically for a moment, wrapping his mind around her comment. "What do you mean, bone claws?"

"Oh… Well, one of the things that I discovered from having Victor's memories is that Logan has always had claws, just, originally they were made of bone," Rogue explained slowly. "I believe that his claws were coated with the same adamantium used to coat the rest of his skeleton. Victor knew Logan around this time, but I'm not sure if he knew him both before and after the surgery. They do share a past, but I haven't really looked into the memories to find out how long that past extends. There are just too many things that I would rather not have to experience if I don't have to."

"I see. Well, that is something interesting to go on. That would explain why Victor insisted on provoking Logan with the name 'Jimmy'. Could that have been Logan's name at some point?" Hank asked slowly, thinking over the different scenarios that could be related.

"I couldn't say. Like I said, I'm pretty much avoiding all of Victor's memories. He's become a good friend when I needed one, and I am not going to taint that with any more knowledge than I already have." Rogue looked away quickly, her modesty showing her discomfort with the subject.

Hank nodded his head slowly, understanding the girl's insistence on privacy. "That's perfectly understandable. Actually, there was something else that you mentioned that I wanted to ask you about. You mentioned that 'if your mutation was on'. What did you mean by that?"

Rogue fell quiet, knowing full well that she would have to explain everything soon enough. "Can you ask Storm to come in here? I think I need to discuss a few things with you first."

~*~*~*~*~*~

He found himself pacing back and forth in front of the infirmary, wondering why the hell Beast wasn't letting them in. He had come down every day to check on her, unable to stay away even after what she had said to him. He needed to see her when she woke; he had things to tell her. Things that even he wasn't sure he knew how to say.

Obviously, he wasn't the only one waiting for that magical moment when she would open her eyes. Victor had shown up just after he had, taking a seat and waiting patiently on a hard chair just across the hall from him. Neither man said anything to the other, even as the doors to the area opened again, revealing the third and fourth people who just refused to go away.

Havok walked in quickly, followed by not only Kitty, but Bobby and Pyro.

"What the hell do you kids want?" Logan growled slowly, eyeing them up and down. It was bad enough that he had to deal with Victor's presence; he wasn't in the mood to deal with all of them.

"I told them not to come," Havok replied slowly, pretending that Logan wasn't directing the question at him too. Without hesitation, he took a seat next to Victor. "But Kitty insisted that I was her responsibility. As for the other two, well, who knows?"

Victor continued to pretend that there was no one else in the room as they paused. The only acknowledgment he gave was a quick nod to Havok as the younger man took his seat.

"What makes you think that you're welcome down here?" Logan asked in a huff, eyeing the others quickly. He couldn't bring himself to ask the same of Havok, knowing the relationship that he shared with Rogue. As much as it hurt to see that there was another man who could make her happy, he had to admit to himself that he was glad she had at least found some happiness.

"I've got to stick with him," Kitty replied quickly, trying not to show how intimidated she really was. "Storm told me to keep an eye on him."

"Well I'm telling you that you can go do what you want now. I'll keep an eye on him," Logan said calmly, yet unable to hide the annoyance in his voice.

"But are you going to be able to watch both of them?" Obviously the girl wasn't as street smart as most of the other mutants in the mansion. Logan didn't say anything as he raised an eyebrow at her. "Whatever. Just call me when you're done with him."

He waited until Kitty was out of the room before turning his gaze on the other two. "Well?"

"I don't know," Pyro replied nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders and rolling his eyes. "He dragged me down here with him."

Logan looked at Bobby, knowing the chances were good that the firestarter was right.

The boy puffed out his chest as he spoke, trying to muster the courage it would take to speak to the man in front of him, much less demand anything. "I want to know how she's doing just as much as the rest of you."

"Then we'll tell you when we find out," Logan replied, giving the boy a dismissive glance before continuing his pacing.

Bobby paused for a moment, knowing that he could get gutted by either feral mutant if he wasn't careful. He wasn't planning on being careful, though. He was tired of being treated like nothing by these two men. He was now leader of the X-Men and this was his home. "She's my girlfriend and my teammate. I deserve to be here, too."

Both Havok and Pyro stopped breathing. Neither had realized that the other boy could be this stupid.

Victor stood from his chair, quietly maneuvering himself between Bobby and the door. Logan froze midstride, turning his gaze on him. "Your girlfriend and your teammate?"

"What makes you think she's your girlfriend?" Havok asked slowly, joining the other two men.

"Stay out of it, Havok," Logan growled, without shifting his gaze. "We all know that she's not his girlfriend and hasn't been for a long time. But what makes you think she's your teammate?"

"She's still an X-Man, regardless of her decision," Bobby replied. "She'll have to do some probation, of course…"

"Probation?" Logan couldn't believe what he was hearing, and judging from the low growl that came from directly behind Bobby, neither could Victor. "You really are fucked up in the head, boy. Do you have any idea what she's been through?"

"That's no one's fault but her own. She made her decision and she's got to live with it." Bobby refused to be intimidated, and Logan found himself wanting to tear the little shit to shreds. "She's still welcome on the team, but she's going to have to prove her reliability."

"You can't be serious," Victor said quickly. Although he chuckled as he spoke, it was obvious that he had nothing playful in mind. For the first time, Logan could see how the other feral mutant might make a good teammate.

"Get out, Bobby," Logan growled slowly, moving closer to the boy. "You have no business being here."

"Actually, he does." Everyone was so focused on the ice mutant that no one noticed the door open at the opposite end of the room.

The voice was familiar and Logan felt his spine melt at the sound of it. He hadn't expected to see her again like this. This wasn't in any of the scenarios he had run through his mind when picturing this meeting. There had been a few where she had woken to find him gutting Bobby, but the look on her face had seemed happier and she was usually cheering him on.

Rogue stepped forward slowly, Hank and Storm following close behind. It looked as if they had been wrapped up in a deep discussion when she had stumbled on the scene. She gave each of them a scowl, making the hall tense for everyone. "He's correct in the assumption that he is team leader now. He has a right to be here if he truly is concerned. There are some things that need to be discussed and he should be in on it, along with the rest of the X-Men and my own team. I would appreciate it if you would round up everyone who came in with us, Victor. We're going to have this meeting in the War Room. Bobby, I believe you should meet with the rest of your team there now."

She didn't say another word before turning and walking away.

~*~*~*~*~*~

"As you can all plainly see, I'm no longer in a coma," Rogue began once everyone in the room was seated. "I regained consciousness early this morning actually. I am perfectly healthy, thanks to my newfound abilities, and I've been able to control and restrain Carol with some outside help. Just like with my team, you will not have to fear what may happen.

"But there is more," Rogue paused, letting her news seep in. She wasn't sure how to explain it all, but she knew she would have to try. "Along with the abilities I have gained, I have also discovered why it is that I have not been able to learn to control my abilities. It seems that my mutation is actually more mentally based than physical as we had all originally suspected. When my mutation first manifested, the way it manifested was what completely threw me off. I was having my first kiss. If my mutation had manifested while I was being attacked or in some kind or danger, then I may have been more thankful for what happened. As it was, it wasn't fear or anger that had heightened my adrenalin and caused my mutation, it was purely hormonal. Because of this, I became afraid of what I was, and in trying to suppress it, I developed a mental block around what I needed to know in order to develop control."

"So you can control it now?" Jubilee asked quickly, practically jumping out of her seat.

"Not quite," Rogue replied with a small smile. "I can turn it on and off at will, but the concentration needed is exhausting. As I grow accustomed to it, though, controlling my mutation will become easier with time."

Logan watched her closely, following the way her eyes trailed around the room, connecting with everyone but himself. It was as if he was invisible to her, as if she had forgotten he was even in the room. He watched through her entire speech, but not once did her eyes meet his. Instead, she seemed to look past him, at the wall he was currently leaning against.

"Now, while I am here, my team has decided to remain at my side. After speaking with both Hank and Ororo early this morning, we all came to the conclusion that this would be the best course to take," she said, watching the different reactions across the room. "My team is not ready to protect an entire city yet. They need training and discipline. While I am working on my own control, Storm and I agreed that my team will remain here and train with the X-Men. I know that there are members of my team that none of you trust. I'm not asking you to teach them everything you know. Just what they need to know to survive on the streets."

"So we have to teach Sabertooth how to survive?" Kitty asked, her voice high with tension. "You're not serious."

"Actually, I am perfectly serious," Rogue replied sternly, her voice devoid of all humor. "I wasn't including Victor in this. He really doesn't need the training, but he can help you with yours if you like."

"No thanks," Kitty replied quickly, sitting back in her chair again. Rogue smiled at her slowly, not bothering to hide the disappointment in her eyes.

"With that, I would also like to add that my team will now be treated as guests and not prisoners," Rogue decreed. "All of them. No more babysitters. No more shadows. No more sleeping in the isolation tank."

She and Storm had gone back and forth on this for over an hour while the others had waited outside her room that morning. And while Storm had raised some valid points, Rogue also reminded her that Victor had been held captive for the last few years. He had been the only one keeping her alive. Rogue also reminded her that she wouldn't have done anything to put the children of the mansion in danger, and that he had helped all of them escape from the lab. Storm made her promise that if anything happened, she would not hesitate to take the feral mutant out herself. Rogue did not hesitate to agree, knowing full well that she was probably the only one who would be able to anyway.

"Now, I would appreciate it if my teammates were shown to new rooms and given some clothes to wear and gear to work out in. Tomorrow, I want to start their training." Rogue watched as most of the people stood from their seats, understanding her dismissive tone. They all filed out, one after the other. She soon found herself alone, with the one person she wasn't ready to confront.

"We need to talk," he said slowly, as he moved away from the wall towards her.

She stood quickly, wanting to escape, but there was no room to do so. The only way past him would be to push him out of the way, and she didn't think she was ready to use such force. What she had neglected to mention was that she wasn't used to her new abilities, and as such, it was dangerous for her to use them without some practice.

"There's nothing to say, Logan," she replied, trying to move around him. She found herself cornered, though. "May I please get by?"

"What the hell is going on?" Logan growled, stepping closer to her. "Why are you with this group? Why didn't you call or come home?"

"Because I wasn't wanted here," Rogue growled back, trying to pull herself away. "These people were in that hell with me. They don't want to see anyone go through that again, and I'm the one to lead them. Not all of them are happy about it, and I would be stupid to believe that they don't want my job. But they'll come around. I suspect that they're already on the way. But the others, they respect me and give me the space I need to be their leader. They not only trust me, but their loyalty is unquestionable."

"Even Sabertooth?" Logan asked slowly, lightly grabbing her arm. He could understand her loyalty to the others. He had been through hell too, and, had there had been others with him he would find himself loyal to them as well.

"Victor saved my life in there. He protected me from those monsters when he could," she replied in a low voice, not tearing her eyes from him. He could see the pain and anger in those eyes, and he wanted to take a step back, but he willed himself to continue. "He didn't use me like the others thought he would when they threw me to him. He didn't allow them to take me away and he didn't allow them to continue to rape me. He was prepared to fight for me. He was prepared to kill me before letting them take me again after I begged him."

Logan didn't know what to say. He had seen what that place had been. He had read the files that Danvers had given him and the ones found on the computer that they were able to salvage, but he had always hoped that Rogue's mutation had kept her safe from that. He had been delusional, but now, being forced to look into her eyes, he found himself confronted with the truth.

He pulled her into his arms, inhaling her exotic scent as he did so. He wanted to comfort her, but knew that she wasn't ready for that yet. She could go on with this façade for as long as she wanted, but he knew that she hadn't healed yet. It was going to take more than putting up a front. "I wish I could have kept you from that. I am so sorry, Marie."

Her anger boiled as she found herself flush against him, but it wasn't just anger at his expression or his apology and concern. She was angrier at the way her body seemed to respond to him, the way her mind yearned for her to hold him, too, and to weep in his arms. She was angry at how she wanted to let him make this all better for her.

She was still in love with him, and she hated herself for that. Her love for him was from before, when she was still delusional. She wouldn't allow herself to be dragged back down into that world again. She wouldn't survive that world.

She looked up to meet his eyes, and although she didn't want to acknowledge what she found there, she felt her heart yearn to believe that his feelings were true.

He wished that he knew the right words to say to her, but even if he did, he didn't think that he could find the courage to say them. He stared back at her for only a second before lowering his mouth to hers, tasting her.

She hadn't wanted to respond to his kiss, but it seemed that her brain had become disconnected from the rest of her body. Instead, she felt herself responding to the light massage of his lips against hers. And when the tip of his tongue slipped inside her mouth, giving her the opportunity to taste him completely, she couldn't stop the moan that escaped her throat.

He held her close as he continued to kiss her, his hold only tightening as she moaned into his mouth. She tasted like nothing he had ever known before. She tasted like life and beauty and what heaven must be like. For a moment, he forgot who he was and why they were standing here in the first place as he deepened the kiss, tasting her as much as possible.

But it changed just as quickly as it had begun. Mortified that she had allowed things to go even that far between them, she pushed herself away. "I have to go."

"Marie," he called after her, unsure of what had just happened and why it had stopped. "We still need to talk."

"There's nothing to talk about," she said quickly as she opened the door. "That…"

"That was real," Logan interjected before she could continue. "That's what we are. We need to talk, Marie. I have some things I need to say to you."

"There is nothing to say, Logan." She tore her eyes away from him, leaving the room as fast as she could before her emotions got out of hand and she allowed herself to cry over the love she still felt for him.


	20. Talks Of The Past

He found her sitting at a table in the library, a large pile of books planted in front of her, and completely alone. The students in the room tended to give her a wide berth, as if she was too dangerous to even get close to. He watched as one boy walked all the way around the room to retrieve a book from one of the shelves just behind her, his eyes never leaving her still form. Everyone's attention was completely focused on her; he doubted they had even noticed he was in the room.

"They've always been like this, since before, when I was a student," she remarked, not looking up. It was then that eyes began to wander to the person she was addressing, and he could practically feel the fear in the room grow. He wanted to let out a growl, but stopped when she shrugged. She must have felt it, too. "It used to bother me, when I first got here, but you get used to it after a while. And eventually, it gets to the point that you don't notice."

"How do you not notice this?" he asked as he watched a couple of the children give up and hurry out. "These people are supposed to be your friends."

"Most of these people are just scared children. Some of them didn't even come here until after I left and only know the stories the others have told. Leave it alone, Victor," she replied, finally lifting her gaze from the book and meeting his. "They fear you almost as much as they fear me."

He didn't make a retort to her comment, only snorted before taking a seat next to her. Glancing at the spines of the books she had piled in front of her, he was startled by what she was reading. "How many books on Psychology can a person read?"

"Now that I know the key to my mutation, I need to work on it. That work requires research," Rogue replied, continuing her reading. "Plus, a few of these have some interesting chapters on what happens to the psyche after being held hostage for long periods of time."

"And why do you want to research that?" Victor asked, not understanding her need to gather as much information as possible. He would rather just put it all behind him and forget everything that happened.

She sighed, putting the book down and looking him in the eye. "This experience has changed us all in one way or another. Take you, for instance. Before all of this happened, would you really have been willing to step foot in this mansion and not tear someone to shreds?" She paused to let that sink in. "John has been more humble. Knowing Carol's past and her upbringing, having her inside my head, I can say for a fact that she was perfectly sane before being thrown into that hell."

"And you're trying to find answers about why this happened? I can tell you why," Victor said with a chuckle. "Plain and simple torture. We changed because we had to. You got stronger. I bet you weren't so willing to die before. Not the way you would have if we hadn't gotten my collar off."

"I know that," Rogue replied, "and I understand why. What I want to figure out is how I am going to live with this for eternity."

"That's simple, Frail," Victor replied, closing the book before her. "There really isn't anything you can do about it. There will be no forgive and forget. You'll never be able to let go of it completely. And you're a fool to believe that you could. A hundred years from now, you'll be minding your own business and happy as ever, and then suddenly, you're hit with something that will remind you of every second of hell you endured in that place."

"You sound like you've been through all of this before," Rogue interjected with a smile.

"When you've lived as long as I have, you go through hell more than once." The words were out before he fully realized what he was telling her. She tried to play it off as if what he had just admitted wasn't so bad, but the way her body tensed and her scent spiked was enough to know that his information penetrated her mind. "I'm not saying that it happens like clockwork, Rogue. It's just that… it's one of those things that is bound to happen. You can't avoid it forever, especially when you're looking at a lifetime of forever. You just have to remind yourself that it's never permanent. One way or another you will break free from your captors. No matter how long it takes, you will get through it. Forever is much shorter for everyone else than it is for us."

"What's the longest time you've been in a position like that?" Rogue asked, unsure if she really wanted to know the truth.

Victor sighed deeply, running a taloned hand through his hair. "Fifteen years. It was government. Special ops. I was apart of a team of mutants who were trained to do the things that no one else would. Those 'special missions' that upstanding members of society would frown upon. There were no files on what we did. It was a messy job, but necessary. But something went wrong, and we were disbanded."

"What happened?" Rogue asked slowly.

"I did my job and my partner didn't agree with my decision," Victor replied slowly, not wanting to give her too much information. "It was the catalyst that led to the destruction of the entire team. A lot of people died because of it. I was held prisoner for fifteen years after that. It was a long time before I knew what happened to him."

She knew by the way his eyes darted around the room and the way his hands fidgeted that the conversation was over. No matter how many more questions she asked, he wouldn't give her any more answers.

"You wanna play some pool?" she asked abruptly, hoping to break the tension in the room.

~*~*~*~*~*~

As they played, Rogue couldn't help but wonder about the conversation they had shared in the library. She wasn't positive, but she had a good guess as to who had been Victor's partner. It was another piece of the puzzle and she wondered if she would be able to gain the entire picture without having to go through Victor's memories. If she did dig through her own mind, would she be able to ignore everything he had done?

~*~*~*~*~*~

He knew where they were even before he caught their scents. He could tell by the horde of children walking from their direction, grumbling about not being able to relax in a death trap. He smiled a little, remembering a time when the children thought of him in the same light.

They were playing a game of pool, and thoroughly enjoying themselves, it seemed. He couldn't tell who was winning from his vantage point, but doubted it mattered too much. Both were smiling and laughing, talking about trivial things.

They hadn't caught his scent, thanks to the A/C blowing across the room. Besides, both were too wrapped up in their game to suspect that someone was watching. He could feel the jealousy building up as the game continued. He could remember a time when she had felt relaxed with him, too; when they could be found together at anytime of day or night, playing a game of pool and enjoying each other's company. He didn't just love her; he missed her and what they used to have together. He missed her friendship.


	21. Simulations And Spars

"Why are you here again?" Bobby asked testily as he entered the danger room to begin practice with the new group of people. He refused to think of them as a team of any kind. None had shown any kind of respect for him as a leader in his own right, and he could feel the animosity building inside himself. These people didn't know what they were getting into. Well, he would show them that it wasn't a game.

But the man in the back of the room, leaning against the wall, forced the boy to rethink his original plan.

"To make sure you don't do anything stupid, Icepop. Storm might trust your authority, but I've seen what you're capable of and I've noticed the way you look at this team," Victor snarled back. "I wanna make sure you treat them right."

"Don't worry about it, Creed," a new voice interjected, the gruffness and anger unmistakable. "I'm here to do just that."

Victor wanted to growl, but held back. He was in charge of these kids now, and he wasn't going to jeopardize them for anyone. "As much as I appreciate the offer, Rogue left me in charge of them when she's unavailable. I'll stay and watch, Jimmy."

Logan felt his left eye twitch at the name. He had no idea what it meant, but he was certain that it was a key to something he had forgotten about long ago. "If you're going to stay, then you train with them."

Victor smiled, moving away from the wall. "That's not a bad idea, Runt. It's been a long time since I've really fought side by side with anyone."

~*~*~*~*~*~

Fifteen minutes later, the simulator was running only two levels from the regular intensity the X-Men used. The biggest difference was the lack of advanced technology needed for this particular level.

Havok was currently caught behind the side of a fallen building on one side of the point site, using his mutation to hold off a horde of FOH members, while Pyro found himself on the other side, building walls of fire to protect the team from all sides. Quicksilver was using his outstanding speed to run circles around the flames, building the walls taller and feeding the flames to further cage the maniacal mob. At the same time, Victor was quickly subduing those who were able to get through the enormous amount of rubble on the third side.

The fourth side of the building was completely engulfed in flames, keeping every possible entry covered while Gambit quickly stole into the building through the roof and made his way through the air ducts. Five minutes later, he emerged with the objective: a terrified Kitty who had been ordered not to use her abilities under any circumstance.

Once both were safely away from the burning building, it collapsed in a flaming heap, before disappearing along with the rest of the simulation.

~*~*~*~*~*~

"What the hell was that, Creed?" Logan growled as he entered the danger room from the observation deck where the other X-Men had watched in horror.

"We got the job done, didn't we?" Victor asked, leading his team to the center of the room. The majority of the group was smiling happily, congratulating each other on a job well done. All except Kitty, who looked as if she was going to faint. "The objective is complete."

"Yeah, you got the job done," Logan conceded, "but you demolished a neighborhood in order to do so. You killed three people with your own hands, not to mention anyone who may still have been left in the building your team set on fire."

Bobby glared at the team before him, unsure what to say. They were reckless and destructive, everything his team was not. But they had completed the course in only a matter of fifteen minutes. They had covered all openings. And, even with the added weight of the mob, they had all survived. The first time his team had run that exact course, both Jubilee and Piotr had been taken out early on while trying to protect all sides of the building while he and Kitty had made their way in. Kitty had been ambushed while inside the building by members of the Friends of Humanity waiting for the rescue team to save Storm. The simulation had ended with Bobby being taken hostage as well. He still swore that if Angel had joined the team before this, they would have been able to beat it without a problem.

It had taken the X-Men and junior team four tries and a half hour longer to complete the objective. Bobby wanted to believe that it was due to the fact that his team didn't share the same abilities as this one or that it was because they had one more person than his team. But even he knew that it was his fault. He had wanted to be the one to get the glory for saving the captive. He had refused to stay behind and use his abilities to help contain the perimeter. Even on the final run, he wouldn't stay behind and it was only because of Piotr pushing himself beyond his own limitations and putting himself in the infirmary for a week that was Bobby able to rescue the objective.

But here was this group standing before him who hadn't even had a real mission yet, being led by a notorious psychopath, and they had done better than his own team.

"Why don't we try a sparring session now? See how they each work in hand-to-hand combat? No powers," Bobby interjected eagerly, wanting to show them just what they were trying to be. "One on one."

"That actually sounds good to me. Is it going to be leader against leader?" Victor asked, flashing a smile big enough to show a pair of sharp, pointed canines.

It was obvious by the fear that crept into Bobby's eyes that he hadn't taken this into consideration. He had been hoping for a chance at Havok, or at least a quick fight against Pyro. He was beginning to wonder if he had dug a little too deeply.

"I actually like the idea," Logan agreed, watching as Bobby grew even more nervous. "Line up everyone."

Both sets of teams lined up opposite of each other. Bobby found himself staring down Havok, and couldn't help the smirk that showed the contentment he felt. On one side stood Bobby, Piotr, Jubilee, Kitty, and Angel, who had decided to help even things out. On the other stood Havok, Gambit, Pyro, Quicksilver, and of course Sabertooth, ready to fight everyone if he had to.

Logan eyed both teams quickly, already knowing who would prove to be the best fight. "We'll start with Pyro and Jubilee."

Jubilee smiled quickly, lightly moving to the middle of the room. The others quickly moved away, giving them enough space to fight in the open area.

"Just remember the one rule. No powers," Logan said sternly before unleashing the two on each other.

Jubilee began by prancing around, forcing Pyro to reach for her with sloppy swings. She quickly took advantage of the situation, grabbing a hold of a wild right hook and using the leverage to kick her opponent in the face. Pyro stumbled back, grabbing a hold of his jaw at the same time. He smiled slowly, finding himself astounded by the young Asian woman. He wondered what else had changed since he had left.

As he stood, shaking off the impact of the kick, he suddenly felt an onslaught of fists connecting with his abdominal area. Trying to block the attack, Pyro moved his arms lower, leaving his face and head exposed. Jubilee quickly took advantage of the opening, hitting him in the nose with everything she had. Blood spouted in every direction as the crowd around them heard a very audible crunch.

"He'll have to go see the good doctor for that one," Logan chuckled as he watched the boy hit the floor.

"Guess his face ain't going to be so pretty anymore after this," Victor added as he walked to his fallen teammate, dragging him out of the way. "He'll live. He may not want to after the rest of this place finds out he was taken out by a girl half his size, but he'll live."

~*~*~*~*~

An hour later, just about everyone had been given a chance to show what each was capable of. While Colossus had fought well, Gambit had been too slick to be caught by the larger man's slower moves. Both had walked away from the spar happy with the outcome. Piotr congratulating the smaller man, and Gambit making compliments on the metal man's strength. Logan made a mental note to practice more with the younger man to increase his speed.

The spar between Kitty and Quicksilver had started out well enough, until the blond boy began to pick up speed while dodging points. Kitty had automatically assumed that he was progressing into the use of his abilities and, using her own mutation, trapped him within the floor. She became disqualified after Quicksilver was able to prove that the speed he was moving at had nothing to do with his mutation. She walked away grumbling, while he accepted the congratulations from the more accepting members of the other team.

Bobby had smiled when Havok's name had been called shortly after. But the smile quickly disappeared when Angel was called to face him. He couldn't fathom why Logan would call the newest member of the X-Men. He hadn't been given much training yet.

But it soon became apparent why. Bobby smiled as he watched the two go back and forth. Neither was very skilled in combat yet, and both were laughing wildly, almost as if they thought it was a game. He found himself disgusted by the lack of seriousness between them.

"All right, boys. That's enough," Logan grumbled suddenly. Bobby looked at him, smug in his assumption that the two would now be in trouble. Instead, he found Logan smiling, amused by the antics. "We'll work on both of your training soon."

Bobby felt his anger rise, until he heard the menacing chuckle coming from behind him.

"Looks like it's just you and me, boy," Victor said slowly, his voice low and harsh with the threat he would bring into the spar.

Bobby felt his throat begin to close as fear began to overcome his anger. He was the only one left who hadn't participated in any kind of spar yet. He could always back down, using his status as team leader, but he already knew that it wouldn't get him anywhere.

"What's the matter, boy? You ain't ready to stand with the big boys yet?" Victor asked slowly, straightening his back and coming up to his full size. He towered over the younger man by at least a foot - possibly more - and it was hard to miss the implicit dig.

Usually, Bobby could come up with a retort without even thinking about it, but as he stared at the monster before him, all he could muster was a slight squeak.

"That's enough, Creed," Logan said quickly, his voice low. "Bobby, as much as I would love to see you take on Sabertooth, I don't like him enough to give him the satisfaction."

Bobby visibly sighed with relief, thankful that he could save face this once.

"I'll spar with him." No one had heard the doors to the danger room swoosh open, or caught sight of the visitor who suddenly appeared out of nowhere. "Unless, of course, he doesn't think that I can compete with him. I mean it should be leader against leader, right? Best of the best?"

Bobby felt his elation rise again. He would win this without a problem. He already knew how she fought and what she knew. He had been primed to lead her once, and as she said, he was the best of the best.

Rogue smiled slowly, a smile that complemented the blood thirst and viciousness in her eyes.


	22. Fights And Talks

"You sure about this, Frail?" Victor asked slowly, not bothering to hide the concern in his voice and eyes. "Shouldn't you be resting? I mean, you just…"

"I just came out of a coma," Rogue finished for him, rolling her eyes. He was turning out to be just as bad as Logan. "I think I've rested enough. Besides, now that I have my own healing factor, I can bounce back from just about anything he tries to throw at me."

She was dressed in the slick leathers of the X-Men, and her curves filled the uniform out quite nicely. Logan couldn't help but notice how beautiful she looked in the uniform, and judging by the looks of the other men in the room, they noticed too.

"But wouldn't that mean using your powers?" Bobby asked smugly, trying to get a point across while attempting to keep his eyes on her face.

"This isn't one that can be turned off or on," Logan replied for her. "It's a physical mutation that you can't change. Like having wings."

"So then she'll have an advantage," Bobby protested mildly. "Is this going to be a real fight? Maybe I should be able to use my powers, too."

Logan looked from Rogue to Bobby.

"I say it sounds like a great idea," Victor said from where he stood with his team. "That way she can suck the life out of him, too."

"I think I'll go ahead and leave that one off," Rogue replied with a grin. "I've got enough of his slime in my head. I'll just keep my gloves on, thank you."

"Then it's settled. We get to use our powers," Bobby stated, crossing his arms over his chest. All he would have to do is freeze her and the fight would be over.

"Yup," Rogue replied with a grin before cocking back her arm and hitting him with only a portion of her super strength. She could feel his left cheekbone crunch under her fist as the force impacted hard enough to throw him a foot across the room.

Logan and Victor both chuckled as the fight progressed from there.

~*~*~*~*~*~

She became an onslaught of kicks and punches, taking it easy on him while he worked desperately to block and dodge anything that could cause real damage, like a crushed cheekbone. He had been surprised that Logan hadn't stopped the fight after the first hit, even knowing that it hurt like hell. Bobby should have won this fight because of that punch.

And now he was doing everything he could to keep from being punched through a wall. Dodging kick after punch, he found himself growing weary. He tried to use his powers to make her slip, giving him a moment to breathe, but his aim was a little off and he encased her foot instead. He smiled quickly, realizing what he had done. Turning to complete ice, Bobby used his mutation to the best of his abilities, pushing himself harder then ever before. He coated her body in a case of ice five inches thick, entrapping her up to her neck.

"You give?" Bobby asked, noting the worry in her eyes. He changed back into his normal form, smiling smugly. "I think this means I won."

Rogue gave him another second to live in his delusions, smiling prettily at him. "I think this means that you've just pissed me off even more."

There was an audible crack that vibrated throughout the room as Rogue used her increased strength and ability to fly to escape.

"I wasn't trying to use all my abilities against you, Bobby," Rogue stated sweetly as she flew in close enough to land another punch across his left cheek. "Hell, I was basically taking it easy on you. Giving you a good fight and all, but if you want to fight dirty," she paused as she planted a foot in his gut, "we can fight dirty."

She threw another punch, one strong enough to close his right eye as he slid across the

floor to the other side of the room. He remained conscious, but it was obvious to everyone that he was struggling as he raised himself from the floor to his knees. He couldn't get much further than that as blood began to drip down his face from a gash on his forehead. His right eye was completely closed, the swelling rising remarkably fast, while his left cheek bleed freely from the damage his face had taken.

Spitting up blood, he threw his opponent a look full of venom and hate. "I've really only got one regret about dating you, Rogue."

"And what is that?" she asked slowly as she rolled her eyes in his general direction.

He flashed her a nasty smile through the blood dripping from his face. "That you didn't become a whore until after you left. Who's next on your list to fuck? You already got Havok and Sabertooth. Not to mention who ever else in your lab. Did you fuck John, too?"

"That's enough, Bobby," Logan growled slowly as Sabertooth made a dive for Rogue in case his words made an impact. Both men wanted to strangle the boy for his words, but Logan had at least learned restraint. He wasn't too sure about Sabertooth, though. "I'd shut it if I were you."

"Fuck you, Logan," Bobby shouted, bloody spit flying from his mouth. "We all know how fucking pissed off you are that you didn't get a chance at her ass first. Or did you? What really happened when you picked her up?"

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Rogue growled angrily, not struggling against Victor's hold. "You weren't always this stupid. I could have sworn you cared about me."

"A pity fuck is still a pity fuck," Bobby laughed, spittle tinged red flying everywhere. "Did you discover you liked sex before or after you got out of that lab? I bet it was while you were there. I bet you loved to be held down and taken roughly."

Rogue screamed like a banshee as she tore herself from Sabertooth's arms, flying full force towards the man who was now barely pulling himself up from the ground. Logan dove for her, knowing full well that she was more than capable of killing him.

It was a blast from behind that stopped everyone. Bobby stood frozen for a moment, his face twisting into a mixture of pain. He then slumped to the floor as Rogue landed quickly beside him. She made no attempt to catch him, only watching as he finally lost consciousness.

"This wasn't your fight," Rogue said sternly, her eyes not moving from the slumped body before her.

"Nope. But it should have been. He's been dying to fight me since we got here," Havok answered back, walking to where Rogue stood. "He wasn't too happy when Logan put me against Angel."

"Still. It wasn't your fight," she repeated herself as she turned away from the scene and made her way out of the room. She would let someone else deal with this mess. She was tired of doing the clean up.

~*~*~*~*~*~

She was sitting alone on a bench under a tree at the far end of the property with her back to the mansion when he found her. He had followed her scent slowly, giving her the time he knew she would need to calm herself down enough to allow anyone to approach her.

"Rogue?" he whispered, coming up behind her. He reached out a tentative hand, unsure if she would want him so close.

"What do you want?" she asked, not turning around. Anger was strongest in her scent, but there was more, most notably sadness and the wetness of her tears. "Just go away, Logan. I don't want to talk to anyone right now."

"Alright," he replied slowly, turning to walk away.

"Do you think I'm a whore?" she asked abruptly, bringing him up short. His shoulders slumped slowly as he turned back towards her.

Taking a seat next to her on the bench, facing the opposite direction to give her the sense of security he knew she needed right now, he sighed deeply.

"You're not a whore, Rogue," he replied feelingly. "No one actually believes that about you."

She laughed then, although it was obviously more painful than funny. "Bullshit, Logan.

They all think I'm a whore; they have for years. There was once, just before you came back that first time… Bobby and I had been dating for about three months, I think and I was head over heels in love with him. I though he felt the same way. Well, there was one night when the psychics were out of town. We - me, Bobby, Kitty, Jubes, Pete, John - smuggled in some alcohol without Scott finding out. We stayed up until four in the morning, drinking and playing stupid games. We were playing Spin the Bottle at one point, and I had to make out with Pete."

"How did that go?" Logan asked, raising an eyebrow. He had never heard about any of this before.

Rogue giggled softly. "Kind of like kissing my cousin or something, really strange. But he really was the only one who could take the risk, as long as he was in his metal form. But, anyway the kiss wasn't anything special. A little tongue, but nothing bad, we were barely touching. But, Bobby, he got really strange. First he got angry at us…"_"So what's going on, Rogue? Am I missing something here?" Bobby asked furiously as he stood from his place in the circle. "'Cause that wasn't just a kiss."_

"_It's not supposed to be just a peck," Marie replied slowly, not understanding why he was so upset all of a sudden. "That was your idea, remember? And it lasted half as long as when you kissed Kitty a minute ago."_

_She didn't mention that there wasn't nearly as much tongue either; she knew that would be going overboard. She knew he was frustrated right now. They had been dating for a few months and hadn't been able to do anything beyond holding hands and tentative attempts at usually interrupted kisses. She wasn't angry at him for relishing that kiss with a girl who could touch; she was more so at herself._

"_Are you fucking around?" Bobby asked blatantly in a half-drunk haze. The room around them grew quiet and somber, everyone knowing that the fight was going to escalate. "Are you fucking Pete?"_

"_No," Marie replied vehemently, stepping away from him as if he had hit her. "What the hell is wrong with you?"_

"_Well, you're not fucking me, so I have to assume that you're fucking someone," Bobby replied, crossing his arms over his chest. "Who is it? Someone in this room?"_

_She didn't know how to answer his accusations. The pain on her face was obvious, and as much as she tried to fight them, the tears falling from her eyes were uncontrollable. "I'm not sleeping with anyone, Bobby. I wouldn't do that to you."_

"_I don't think I really believe that," Bobby replied scornfully. "Who haven't you fucked? I mean, I hear things, Rogue. I know what everyone's saying about you."_

"_What, exactly, are they saying?" Marie asked sourly, her expression becoming angrier. _

_Bobby smiled, trying to catch the eyes of anyone else in the room, hoping for some back-up. John shrugged his shoulders, but Bobby somehow believed that it was his friend's way of telling him to go on. "They're saying that you were on the road with that guy for a lot longer than you say you were. That you two did stuff together. That there is no way an animal like him would pick up a young hitchhiker, and not expect anything in return."_

_Marie held her breath for a moment, trying to control the anger building up inside her. "I didn't lie about anything, Bobby. You know that."_

"_You're just a fucking whore, Rogue," Bobby said quickly, his breath reeking of alcohol._

"_Come on, Rogue. You don't need this shit," Jubilee jumped in quickly, standing up to physically defend her friend if needed. "Let's go to bed. You coming, Kitty?"_

_Kitty looked from Marie to Bobby, then back to Marie. "Yeah. I'll be there in a minute. I want to help clean up in here first."_

"_You're just a fucking whore, Rogue. Nothing more than a white trash slut. Even your accent screams trailer trash," he kept saying as Jubilee escorted Marie from the boys' room._

_It wasn't until they reached the door that they heard someone else speak up._

"_Comrade, I think you should apologize, yah? That wasn't very respectful." Peter's voice was calm when it reached her ears, although there was no disguising the pent-up anger beneath his words._

"Was it always like that?" Logan asked slowly.

"No. Not always, but mostly. Especially when we were alone and I wouldn't do anything with him," Rogue replied, still keeping her gaze firmly on the foliage before her. "I shouldn't have stayed with him as long as I did."

"Then why did you?" He felt his anger rising again, wanting to gut the boy even more. He did his best to keep his temper reigned in, but knew that he would have to go find a fight somewhere before he lost it. "Why didn't you leave him after that first time?"

"He apologized the next morning, just before breakfast. He promised that it would never happen again, and that he loved me and understood that I just wasn't ready. He said it was the alcohol talking," she sighed, looking down at her hands. "He always apologized like that. It was always because of something else. But, after that first time, I knew better. He was saying it to hurt me, because I wouldn't give him what he wanted."

"And why didn't you leave him?" Logan asked again.

Rogue looked up again, this time turning her gaze so that her eyes held his. "At first, it was because I thought I loved him."

"And later?" Logan tried not to show any emotion as she spoke, not wanting to give her anything else to contemplate.

"Later gets more complicated," Rogue replied with a bitter smile. "I guess because by the time I realized I was better than that, I also realized that it was probably my last chance at any kind of relationship. I wasn't making any progress with the Professor, and there wasn't anyone else who showed that kind of interest in me."

"That's no reason," Logan said stubbornly, pulling a cigar from his shirt pocket. "You shouldn't have had to put up with shit like that."

"I was just happy to be putting up with anyone's shit, Logan," Rogue replied angrily. "He was one person who didn't ignore me or run away."

"I didn't run from you, Rogue," Logan shot back, failing to hide the anger in his voice.

"That's bullshit. I have your memories, Logan. I knew your feelings. You were scared shitless of me and what I could do to you. I had already drained you twice. You finally found the one person who could kill you, and you ran like a bitch." She stood quickly, walking towards the woods.

He sat in silence for a moment, unsure what to say. He had been scared, yes, but not because of what she thought. It had nothing to do with her skin. He was afraid of what she was capable of making him be. It scared him to know that, even back then he had become so attached to the young girl, that if he hadn't left when he had, he wouldn't have been able to. Ever. After only a handful of days together, she had come to mean more to him than anyone else he could remember. He hadn't realized it then, but he had already been half in love with her. But she had been just a child. A little girl who was still on the brink of becoming a woman, even though everyone was beginning to believe that she was never going to leap off that cliff.

He stood slowly, giving her a little more time to walk away. He was going to have to deal

with this, and he was tired of running from her and himself.


	23. Talks And Caresses

After he saw them talking, he watched the other mutant disappear into the woods. To anyone who didn't know the two, the scene would have resembled a normal conversation, but he knew better. Even from this distance, he could practically feel the tension coming off both of them.

It was obvious to him, even without his secondary mutation, that the two were attracted to each other. As much as it hurt to admit, they were practically a match made in heaven. Or hell, if you knew them well. But they weren't together yet, and judging by the way she had stormed off into the woods, it would be some time before they were. He still had a chance to have some fun… if he could just talk her into it.

He had been attracted to her from the beginning, and he hadn't bothered to keep his attraction a secret. She was strong, smart, beautiful; the kind of woman who wouldn't object to a little rough foreplay against the back brick wall of a bar, and then turn around and be a lady in front of his mama, if he had one. And then there was the deadly skin thing. He was known for taking risks, and this would rank up there with everything else. He figured that the chance of death would make it that much more exciting.

But she had been too caught up in everything else to really take notice, and then she fell into bed with Havok, of all people. That put a damper on things. He had always assumed that she would be more interested in the bad boy type, the ones who seemed unattainable and protective. It wasn't that he had anything against the younger man, of course; it was just that Havok was too laid back to be able to take a woman like her seriously. Of course, maybe she was looking for something casual.

He wouldn't be able to give her anything more than casual, either. "'Cause Remy don't be needing nothing but casual these days," he whispered as he lit a thin cigarette, the red of his eyes glowing. He had a plan, but it would have to wait until the pair returned. If they didn't hook up now, he would have a chance, himself. Hell, maybe they could both use the situation to their advantage.

He smiled slowly, the cigarette clamped between his teeth as he opened the window. After he enjoyed this, he would go find something, or maybe even someone, to pass the time between now and dinner. He wondered if the girl with the green hair he saw at breakfast was eighteen yet or not. Wouldn't hurt to ask.

And he would make sure to check her ID, too. He really didn't want to make that mistake twice.

~*~*~*~*~*~

"Have you seen Rogue and Logan?" Storm asked suspiciously when she found Victor lounging in one of the library's chairs, reading a paperback. She couldn't help but wonder if he had found the extended version of Cat In The Hat.

"Breakfast of Champions. Kurt Vonnegut. One of the greatest," Victor told her quickly, a twisted smile forming on his lips as if he knew what she had been thinking. "Haven't seen them since they left the danger room, either. How's the boy?"

"Stable. Nothing a little surgery can't fix. Do you want to tell me exactly what happened in there and why no one stopped it?" she asked, quickly recovering from the shock that Sabertooth might just have an IQ high enough to read and understand Vonnegut. "Your teammates won't say anything, insisting that they are under strict orders to keep their mouths shut, and the X-Men aren't cooperating at all."

"They won't either. Face it, Storm," he replied snidely, adding a slow drawl to her name, "they're just a little more afraid of Logan than they are of you."

"Then you tell me what happened. I already know you're not afraid of anyone," Storm persisted, taking a seat in the chair across from him.

Victor made a production of sighing as he put down his book on the table between them, obviously put out by the interruption. "Your leader made an ass of himself and got what was coming to him. It's that simple. He thought he could take Rogue on, and lost. And then he made a spectacle of himself to the point where his own team got disgusted with him. What happened in there was of his own doing. And, if you don't mind my bluntness, you really should be more careful about who you want in charge of your team. He's a lot less… In control of himself than you think. He's just really good at hiding it."

"Robert Drake was hand chosen to take over leadership of this team by Scott Summers, himself," Storm replied quickly, ready to defend her team. "He has done an excellent job of leading his teammates, and he has excelled beyond all expectations."

"Yeah, well, what he did in that room was deceptively short of excellence. He's reckless and out of control," Victor growled, wanting to get his point across. He had spent more time with the other members of the new X-Men, and found that they were less irritating than he had thought they would be. "I don't want to see anything happen to those kids because he loses control on the streets."

"And you're the picture of control, right?" Storm shot back, working hard to keep her emotions in check. Through the window behind Victor, she could see the few clouds in the sky begin to grow and darken. If she allowed herself to get any more angry, it would surely cause a downpour over the woods. "I haven't forgotten the last time we met."

"We weren't on opposite sides because of my lack of control, Storm," Victor replied, flashing a smile that showed his canines. "The other team just paid better. It was more a lack of morals, if you will."

"I remember you telling me to scream for you," Storm said bitterly, reminding him of the train station. "That didn't have anything to do with the job."

"You're right about that," Victor laughed quickly, leaning back in his chair. He was beginning to enjoy this conversation. "I thought the job was just about done; grab the girl, bring her back and keep her safe until Magneto was ready for her. I figured that it wouldn't hurt to flirt a little."

"Bashing my head against a glass booth and growling in my face while choking me is not flirting, Victor." Thunder sounded outside as the clouds burst open, showering the woods. At this point, Storm was too upset to care. Absently, she hoped no one was out there.

"It is when you're with me," Victor replied with a laugh. "What's wrong with a little… rough foreplay? Besides, you don't see me getting all… huffy about you hitting me with a bolt of lightening, now do you? I remember that, too. It's just a part of the job description."

Storm silently decided that the conversation had become too much for her. Standing before her anger increased any further, she quickly retreated from the library, the feral mutant's laugh following her. She would find her friends on her own.

~*~*~*~*~*~

He followed her scent slowly, giving her some space. She would stop walking away when she was ready, and he would tell her then. He could feel her in his arms again, but he wanted it to be different from the last time he kissed her. He wanted her to be comfortable and willing. He wanted to feel her ease into the kiss, and he wanted her to want it as much as he did.

Her scent slowly began to grow stronger, and he knew that he was getting closer. But there was something else in the air, the sweet smell of a powerful storm coming in. The forecast this morning had called for clear skies and a gentle breeze, meaning that Storm was probably irritated over the mess Rogue had made of Bobby.

He became lost in his thoughts then, even as he continued to follow her scent. He wondered if the rain would make things more difficult for them to talk, and whether he should get her indoors.

"What more do you want from me?" The southern drawl came from just a few feet in front of him, and he realized that this was the spot her scent had led him to.

She was sitting on a log, this time facing him. He wondered for a brief second if she had known he would follow her, but of course she had. If she hadn't wanted him to, then she would have flown away.

"I have a couple of things to say, too," Logan replied bluntly, walking towards her. He moved slowly, unsure of her motives. Her scent wasn't hostile, more tired. She was emotionally exhausted, but he wasn't cocky enough to believe that she wouldn't or couldn't hurt him. He had learned otherwise enough times to know that it would only take a flick of her wrist and he would be down for the count.

He straddled the log next to her, getting as close as he could. He could feel her scent envelop him, and he felt himself relax for the first time in too long. She was what he needed, he was sure of it. She was the only thing that mattered, that had ever mattered.

"I want you, Marie," he began slowly, bluntly, purposely using her real name. Her shoulders stiffened at that, but he wasn't going to take it back now. It was too late. "I have for a long time now. More than anything else in the world."

"Since when?" Rogue asked, still not looking at him.

He ran a tentative had through his hair, noticing that the smell of rain was growing stronger. He wondered if she had caught it, too. Soon, small droplets of water would be falling. "I guess, since the beginning. Laughlin City."

She looked at him then, her eyes full of questions and doubts. "Then why did it take you so long to say anything?"

He shrugged, unsure of what to tell her. Even he hadn't quite figured that one out yet. "You were a kid back then. You weren't even old enough to be in that bar I found you in. Hell, you were drinking WATER in the bar. Who the hell drinks water in a bar?"

"A broke person stranded in the middle of nowhere," she retorted angrily, remembering the moment all too well. "And if you wanted me so damn bad, then why did you constantly flirt with Jean?"

Again, he wasn't sure what to tell her. "She was an adult. She was there and willing. She was available."

Her expression changed quickly, anger simmering through her. "She was engaged. She was going to be married. That's not available."

"I know that," Logan growled quickly. "But she wasn't really fighting it either. You have to remember, it went both ways."

She stood to walk away again, not wanting to deal with his temper right now. But she felt his hand grab her wrist and pull her back to him, flush against his now standing form.

He waited for her to look up at him, and when she did, he devoured her. His tongue coaxed her lips open, wanting to explore her mouth. The kiss was full of passion as he pressed his body against hers. It was hot and angry, and she couldn't help but moan as his fingers dug into her flesh.

She had stopped thinking the second his lips had met hers, and now that she had gotten her hands loose, she let them do what they would. Her fingers became entangled in his hair as she met his passion with her own. She scraped her long nails along the back of his neck as his fingers continued to bite into her skin. He moaned loudly as his hands wandered over her body, kneading her stomach and then her breasts. She had never felt this alive before, never felt this wanted.

He pulled them back down, this time him sitting on the log and her straddling his thighs. They hadn't broken the kiss once yet, and neither was willing to do it.

Rogue finally untangled her hands from his hair, letting her fingers follow his form down his shirt, to his jeans. Eagerly, she pulled the black shirt up, untucking it. She wanted to feel the heat of his skin under her bare hands.

She moaned again when she felt his muscles ripple under her fingers, and his kiss became even greedier. He wanted to see her lips swollen and hungry for him. Each moan she loosed only urged him on further.

He continued to knead her right breast with his left hand as his right hand moved to find the zipper to her uniform. She hadn't changed after she had taken off, and he was more grateful for that little gift than anything else that had happened that day.

Eagerly pulling the leather off her shoulders, he also pulled up the black sports bra she wore underneath. As soon as she was exposed, he tore his lips from hers and began a rough trail of open-mouthed kisses down her neck to her breasts. Taking her right nipple into his mouth, he felt her moan again before throwing her head back and enjoying the experience he was giving her.

Her fingers found his hair again. He growled softly into her flesh as she began to pull, the vibration only making her pull harder in her ecstasy.

"Oh God, Logan," she whimpered as he moved his attention to her other breast, giving it the same affection as its twin.

He had known that she would taste good, but this was beyond his expectations; she tasted clean and fresh. Her skin was hot, but he had never tasted anything so thirst-quenching before.

His right hand moved from her left breast, unzipping the leather uniform completely in its quest to find her most private area.

He sighed with pleasure when he found her moist beneath the underwear she wore. He absently wondered what color they were, but forgot the thought as soon as it had popped into his mind. It wasn't important to him.

She gasped as he moved his thumb over her sensitive spot, the pleasure almost too much to bear. And then she moaned as he slipped a finger deep inside her.

"Logan," she moaned gratefully as he began to move the finger back and forth. "I want to taste you."

He couldn't help releasing his own moan as she stood up over him, falling to her knees between his legs. He groaned in anticipation as her hands worked feverishly to unbutton the blue jeans he had quickly changed into after she had left the danger room.

She worked quickly, releasing his stiff member from its confinement. She kept her eyes locked with his as she leaned forward and planted a soft, promising kiss on the tip, before pressing her mouth against it to take him in.

He couldn't help but close his eyes as she began to bob her head up and down. His fingers became entangled in her hair as she dug her nails into his exposed side, using his legs for leverage as she continued. He couldn't get over the velvet of her mouth each time she took him a bit deeper, and he knew he wasn't going to be able to take much more.

It was at that moment that a loud crack came from above and the skies opened over them.

As water splashed his face, Logan growled and lifted Rogue from her knees. He quickly threw her on a bed of leaves, diving into her and using his knees to open her willing legs wide enough to give him access.

He leaned in just far enough for the tip of his member to touch her opening. Bending a little more to kiss her as he moved, he plunged into her deeply, roughly. She moaned and shuddered under him as he brought her over the edge again and again, willing him to continue. As her back arched one final time, he came with her, deep inside her womb.

He collapsed on top of her, holding her tightly as she lightly kissed his check with soft, open-mouthed kisses.

As her lips met his, she could feel him growing hard again within her. Using her strength, she gently turned them over, careful not to let him slip out. As soon as she was comfortable enough, she rode him in the rain, taking her time even as his hands explored her body. She relished the feeling of his hardness inside of her, slowly moving along with her as her hips rolled over him. The heat of their bodies overshadowed the cold of the rain that poured over them.

Swiftly moving her hands, she tore open his shirt, caressing the muscles of his chest and abdomen as she reached new heights of pleasure. But she wouldn't be foolish enough to believe that there would be more than this.

She would give herself these few moments of her dream, but when it was over, she wouldn't allow herself to get attached to him again. It would be too painful to watch him walk away again.

~*~*~*~*~*~

He watched her slowly zip up the leather suit, her fingers still trembling from the orgasms she had just experienced. He would have liked to wrap his arms around her, but it was obvious that she wouldn't accept him. As soon as they had finished making love a second time, she had crawled off of him, retrieving her uniform and dressing deftly. Not a word was said.

"Rogue," he began, wanting to make sure that things were now clear between them.

She shook her head, her hair soaked from the downpour that was now trickling off. The leather of her uniform was now too tight to zip up any further than just past her navel. She hadn't bothered putting her sports bra back on, worried that the extra moisture would make it impossible.

"There's nothing left to say, Logan. It was something we both needed to get out of our systems, that's all," she replied with a quick shrug of her shoulders. "I'll see you later."

She pushed into the air, flying away before he had a chance to say anything. He had known better than to believe that she had been so unmoved. He had caught the scent of her tears as she had dressed.

He growled into the twilight, howling his rage. He might have stopped running from what she meant to him, but she hadn't.


	24. nightmares and running

She came awake suddenly, a scream trapped in her throat as she struggled away from the memory of the nightmare. She was dripping with sweat, her hair matted from the moisture, her blanket tossed to the floor and her sheet tangled around her legs. She could still feel their hands on her body, roaming and pinching, seeking whatever they wanted to take from her, forcing her to do what they wanted.

Except, in her dreams, it wasn't just five of them, but more. Hundreds more. And it wasn't just their hands they used, but whatever they wanted. She could still feel their eyes burning into her…

But the feeling of being watched hadn't washed away with the rest of her nightmare. Instead, it seemed heightened as she came fully awake. Snapping her eyes open, she found a small amount of light pouring in from the door, wrapped around the lone figure that stood there, watching her. She wondered how long he had been there and whether or not it had been her screams that had brought him to her room. Why hadn't he ventured further inside than the door? Had he only just barely arrived, or had he been watching her the entire time?

"What do you want, Logan?" she asked hoarsely, disentangling her legs from the sheet and tossing it down to the floor. She wasn't going to be able to get any sleep now, not with the images still in her mind. Glancing at the clock, she groaned silently to herself. It was 4:30. The sun hadn't risen yet, but there was no point in going back to sleep now. Maybe once she got rid of her visitor, she would go for a swim.

Turning on the light on her nightstand, she winced slightly as the room was bathed in a soft glow. She needed to work on adjusting her heightened senses.

"Nightmare?" Logan asked, his voice full of concern even as his features softened just a bit. "I could have heard you all the way downstairs."

"Is this why you're here? To check on me?" she asked angrily as he closed the door behind him. She could see his shoulders hunch with tension at her words, and knew that she had hit a sore spot with him. She sighed, knowing that maybe even he didn't need such harshness at this time of the morning. "Yeah, Logan. Another nightmare."

"Was it one of mine?" She used to have his nightmares as often as he did right after she absorbed him. Through the years, they tapered off to the point where she would have one every couple of weeks, but she hadn't had one since she was captured. Now she had her own nightmares to battle. She wondered how long it would be before she missed his.

She shook her head no, watching his shoulders visibly relax. "Nope. One of my own. Did you need something?"

She was hoping that this was a trivial visit, although she knew by the way he shrugged his shoulders and looked away that she wasn't going to be so lucky. She really hoped that he didn't want to talk about what had happened in the woods. Though her heart still yearned for him and her arms ached to touch him, she wasn't going to change her mind about her decision. She wasn't ready for his offer. She refused to go through a lifetime of his self-destructive behavior, much less an eternity. There was too much he would never be able to let go of.

"Was it about the lab?" Logan asked, sitting on her bed, just next to where she had curled her legs toward her. She knew what he was thinking. He wanted to know if she was put through the same torture he had been. If she had been poked and prodded.

"It was about my guards," she replied angrily, closing in on herself.

"Want to talk about it?" he asked slowly. He had known that bad things were possible in places like that, that she had to have gone through something horrible at the hands of those men. But it didn't make it any easier to hear her speak about it.

"No," she replied quickly, her tone leaving no room for discussion. "This little visit isn't just because of bad dreams, Logan. What do you want?"

"You, Marie," he whispered slowly, his voice becoming gruff and warm. "I want you with me, in my bed."

She couldn't help but laugh at him, the anger and pain pushing through. "Maybe I don't want you anymore, Logan. Maybe that ship has sailed and it isn't coming back. Now, if you would kindly leave my room, I need to pee."

She jumped from the bed, heading towards the bathroom. He wasn't going to let her get away that easily, though. Grabbing her by the hand, he pulled her back to him, his eyes glued to hers. The warmth of her skin against his was overpowering, to say the least. Her scent was intoxicating to him, and the pain and fear from the nightmare only made him want to hold her close to him. He had never felt anything like this before. He was sure of that.

"Quit walking away from me, Marie," he whispered slowly, grabbing her hips and burying his face in her stomach.

She fought the urge to run her fingers through his hair and hold him. She wanted to reassure him that everything would be alright, that they would get through this, too. But, deep down, she wasn't sure that she wouldn't be lying to both of them.

She gave him another moment before pulling herself away and walking across the room. She was standing between the bathroom and closet doors now, wringing her hands and wishing for the days when life was just a bit simpler. When Jean and the rest of them were alive, and her biggest problem was trying to figure out how to kiss her boyfriend without sucking the life out of him.

He stood then, watching her wring her hands as she fought back the sobs.

"I can't do this with you, Logan," Rogue started lowly. Even after all the times her heart broke watching him walk away from her or panting after Jean, she still didn't want to hurt him. She wouldn't lie to herself either, and give up her self to become what he wanted. As much as she still loved him, she had to be her own person first. "I can't be what you want. Not if I want to keep who I have become."

"I don't want you to be anyone else, Marie," he replied slowly, allowing his vulnerability to show. "I just want you."

"How can you say that when you don't even know who I am now?" she demanded, her head tilting to the side. "You don't know me at all anymore, Logan. I'm not that same little girl you pitied enough to let ride in your truck."

"I know that, Marie," he agreed quietly, standing from his position. He walked to her carefully, afraid that if he moved too quickly, she would run.

"Stop calling me that," she whispered slowly, shaking her head. There was no anger in her voice now. "I'm not Marie, anymore. And I'm not Jean, Logan. I will never be Jean. And I will not spend eternity trying to mold myself into her. I'm not graceful or elegant and well-spoken like her. I'm not as smart or so damn sugary feminine, it would make your teeth hurt, either. And I never will be. That isn't who I want to be, not for anyone."

"I know that, Rogue," he replied, careful to use her mutant name. "I'm not asking you to be."

"Maybe not." Rogue's voice was filled with the bitterness of the last three years of watching the only man she had allowed into her fantasies since her mutation had manifested drool after a woman who was supposed to marry another. "But what happens when someone who is like her catches your eye? Or if your wanderlust kicks back in and you decide to just take off? I can't follow you around for eternity, waiting for you to make up your mind."

"We'll deal with it all one day at a time, just like any other couple. I don't want anyone elegant or graceful," Logan replied slowly, leaning into her as his hands found her hips again. "I want you, Marie."

"Logan," she managed to whisper before his mouth devoured hers. She didn't bother pushing away, instead finding that she was just as hungry for his kiss as he was for her. His hands began to wander over her body, exploring every curve she possessed, wanting to touch her everywhere at once.

His touch wasn't delicate, either, but possessive and wanting, his fingers grabbing her flesh as his hands found their way under her shirt.

"I love you, Marie," he whispered into her mouth.

"I love you, too, Logan," she whispered back, making her mind up about what her next move was going to be.

When he finally awoke, the other side of the bed was empty and cold. She was no longer lying beside him and hadn't been for a long time. There was a note lying on the pillow though. It smelled of her, and the curvy scrawl across the page was her handwriting. His hand shook as he picked up the single sheet of paper, a small ball of dread forming in the pit of his stomach.

'I can't just take it one day at a time. I need more.'

- Rogue

He let out a growl as he jumped from the bed and threw on his clothes. With any luck, he would find her and let her know that she was his life.

He followed her scent to the kitchen, where Storm sat, silently sipping from a tall glass of iced tea. Their eyes connected and he knew the truth. She had left. Her team had gone with her.


	25. Double Crossed

"I wish you would have called ahead of time," Mystique said grimly as she followed Rogue up the stairs of her home. She hadn't bothered moving back into her old room yet, leaving it for Rogue when she was ready for it. "That damn Danvers woman has been a pain in the ass since you left. She kept asking the most exasperating questions. 'When are they coming back?'"

"I was told Danvers was dead," Rogue returned slowly, turning around to look at the other woman. It had been well into the night before they arrived in Las Vegas. Not wanting to fly straight through in case someone - namely Logan - decided to follow her, she and the others had booked a flight from New York to Reno. There, they rented a car and a van to make the eight-hour drive, with she, Victor, and Havok in the car, and the others in the van. He probably knew where she was going, but it would make her feel better if he was a little put out by her travel plans. "I still have her psyche locked inside my head. What's going on?"

Mystique smiled slowly, realizing just how much the younger woman had been kept in the dark. "Yes, Carol Danvers is dead, but Savannah Danvers is alive and well down the hall. You'll meet with her in the morning."

Rogue turned back to the hall before her, making her way to the last, and largest, bedroom. Mystique still followed, wanting to fill her in on everything.

"Can't we please finish this discussion in the morning, Raven?" Rogue asked coldly as she turned the doorknob. All she wanted to do was sleep at this point.

Mystique ignored her request, instead following her into the room and swiftly closing the door behind her, hoping that no one else would hear their conversation. "You need to know something about Savannah, now."

"What? You found her, told her that her sister was dead, and she came running down to find out what happened. It's a no-brainer, really," Rogue replied as she peeled off the white t-shirt she had been wearing since she and the rest of her team had left the mansion early that morning. They were all currently back in their assigned rooms, trying to get some sleep before she put them back to work in the morning.

Mystique chuckled slightly, already a little agitated. "You must have had a hell of a time with Wolverine. Did you find out that he's not as good in bed as you had always fantasized? Were you disappointed?"

"Go to Hell, Raven," Rogue replied bitterly. "If you must know, the sex wasn't just great, but outstanding. Made my toes curl. So good, that I just had to have another taste before I left."

Mystique raised an eyebrow at the girl's newfound confidence. "Then why did you come back without him?"

"I have a job to do, Raven. That's what is important right now," Rogue shot back sourly. She didn't want to talk to the other woman about her love life. She was currently riffling through Mystique's closet, trying to find something that would cover her own larger bust. There was an assortment of clothes, both men's and women's, and it didn't take long for her to find something suitable.

"Fine. Keep all the juicy little details to your self," Mystique sighed sadly. "There are more important issues that need to be discussed, anyway. Such as this Danvers woman."

"What about her?" Rogue demanded, rolling her eyes as she pulled the new shirt over her head. It was a plain, black shirt that didn't quite reach her belly button. "Is she throwing a fit or something?'

Mystique took a seat on the bed as Rogue turned to look at the older woman. "What's strange is that she isn't. This entire situation just feels wrong."

Rogue cocked an eyebrow. "What else is going on?"

"For starters, I didn't have to call her. She came with the rest of the X-Men the night Carol attacked you. I think it was through her that Wolverine was able to track you here. From what I gathered from everyone about that place you were in, it should have appeared that you were dead," Mystique explained slowly, shrugging her shoulders. And the fact that she doesn't seem to be as emotionally unstable as I suspect a person should be after loosing a close relative worries me some."

"So you think there is something deeper than what she's shown you so far?" Rogue asked thoughtfully, curiosity overcoming her weariness. "Has she spoken to you about anything?"

Mystique shook her head. "It's little things, nothing too big. Her sister's childhood, how close they were. What I am curious about is why we didn't know anything about her from the beginning. If she and Carol were so close, then why didn't she call Savannah right after she was brought here, like the others? I hadn't mentioned anything about the team to anyone until after those with a home to go to were well on their way."

"That's a good question," Rogue replied slowly. "Have you tried to find any background on her?"

"That's another thing," Mystique stood from the bed and walked to the desk, grabbing a file from the shelf. "I did a little research on her, found some interesting facts. She is an FBI agent and she's been working undercover at various mutant clinics for the last three years. She was in the clinic that you were taken from."

"When did you learn this?" Rogue asked swiftly, reaching for the folder.

"Just a few hours before you arrived. I haven't really had a chance to look into it further," Mystique replied musingly, gesturing for Rogue to take a closer look. "I was going to read more after she was in bed, but then you showed up at my door with a horde of grumpy, smelly men, demanding food."

Rogue flipped through the file quickly, looking for anything that would pop. She found it towards the back of the file, a name that made her blood run icy cold. Turning the folder back to Mystique, keeping the page open, her entire body tensed. "It seems that when Ms. Savannah Danvers was in her senior year of college, she was linked to a newly emerging radical group known as the Friends Of Humanity. Not only that, but she was romantically linked to the founder of the group, Graydon Creed, for about ten years. I assume, after hearing Carol's own tale, Savannah left the FOH due to her sister's manifestation. It was also around this time that she left her local police department to join the FBI, so that may also have had something to do with it."

"So, my fearless leader, what do we do about this?" Mystique asked, closing the folder and tossing it on to the bed.

"I do believe that it's not too late to wake and speak with Ms. Danvers. I have a few questions for her that just can't wait until morning," Rogue replied, suddenly relieved of her exhaustion.

"Good morning, Savannah," Rogue said sweetly, knocking on the door as she opened it. Savannah was currently sitting up in her bed, wiping the sleep from her eyes. "My name is Rogue, and I have some questions for you."

"What time is it?" Savannah asked slowly, looking around the room for a clock.

Rogue smiled, standing before her at the end of the bed as Mystique quickly closed the door. Although it seemed that both women were smiling politely, there was no denying the danger their presence represented. "It's about two in the morning. You have a few things to explain. How is Graydon doing, by the way?"

Savannah didn't blink an eye as she answered. "I wouldn't know, I haven't seen him in years. Not since I broke it off with him. Why?"

"Why did you break up?" Rogue asked quickly, ignoring the other woman's inquiry. "I mean, you two were together for a really long time. What was it, ten years? I've known people who weren't together for nearly a third of that time before getting married."

Savannah shrugged her shoulders, her calm demeanor not wavering. "We just never really talked about it. I broke it off when I was accepted into the FBI. He didn't want me to join, but it's what I've wanted since I was in high school."

"Did you know that Creed is the District Attorney here?" Rogue asked, keeping control of the conversation.

"I really didn't. All I knew was that I was coming to get my sister. I got a call from her asking me to come down and see how things were going," Savannah replied, her eyes shifting from one to the other. "She didn't think that you were capable of handling this whole mutant team."

"Really? And how do you feel about what happened?" Rogue asked, wanting to get her perspective. Mystique was right, the woman wasn't really showing any kind of emotion regarding her sister's death. But what she didn't know was that now that Carol was locked in her mind, Rogue already knew what she was leaving out. Carol had called Savannah to come down to help overthrow her, in the hopes that Carol would be able to move into the position of leader.

"Carol did it to herself," Savannah replied quickly, her voice becoming stronger, more level. "She shouldn't have done it. If you hadn't been capable, then it would have been obvious almost right away. She knew better than to try to take you out herself, especially the way she did. I think that lab changed her."

"Or maybe there was more to it. Maybe it wasn't so simple. Maybe she wanted to help her big sister in her cause and was planning on getting the cure right after our team was taken care of," Rogue replied slowly, her anger breaking through her sweet demeanor. "You see, there is something special about my mutation. Something that wasn't documented in the clinic I was taken from. I already know you were there, so don't deny it. You know my mutation is my skin, that when I touch someone, they go into a coma, or die. That when I specifically touch a mutant, I steal their abilities: Logan's regenerative mutation, Carol's superhuman strength and ability to fly, along with her invulnerability. But when I hold on long enough to kill them, I take their powers, or if I touch them enough times like with Logan or Sabretooth, my mutation copies theirs completely and I can continue to use it afterwards. These little details weren't documented because, well, I didn't know.

"But there was another little discrepancy with my mutation that I never shared. A little thing that I hadn't thought really mattered at the time. You see, when I touch someone, not only do I put them in a coma, but I get a copy of their whole being locked in my head. I get copies of their personalities, what they were thinking at the time, their quirks. I even get their memories. Forever. And I can delve into any one of them at any time. Even things that they have learned, like when their big sister comes home and teaches them how to tell when someone is lying."

Savannah began to squirm, becoming increasingly uncomfortable with the conversation. "So what are you saying?"

"I'm saying that you're lying about a few things. Graydon Creed, for one," Rogue replied bitterly, walking closer. "You haven't really lost touch with him over the years, have you, Savannah?"

"I don't know what the hell you're talking about. All I know is that you killed my sister. Even this story of self-defense is a little contrived, don't you think?" Savannah asked, her answers becoming defensive.

Rogue shrugged, moving closer to her. "Something else about the people I touch, like in the case of your sister. If I take their lives, they don't just die. The body will be an empty shell with no vital signs at all. Its heart will no longer beat, it will no longer breathe. The actual body would be completely useless. But the mind won't be. It's not just a copy that I get within my head, but the entire entity. Living on and trapped forever within my mind. So, we can do this one of two ways. Either you can stop lying to me and tell me what Graydon is up to, or I can just touch you and get the information that way. I'm sure your sister will love the company."

"Make sure Victor takes care of her completely. I don't even want to hear of a body being found," Rogue said swiftly, rubbing the bridge of her nose as she and Mystique left the room, closing the door on the comatose body.

Mystique smirked, impressed with the shorter woman's technique. "Was it really necessary to touch her? You could have just beaten the information out of her."

"Yeah, but that would have been messy, and I'm already so tired. Plus, it's not that hard to lock her away, and now she's up there with both Victor and Logan," Rogue replied with a shrug. "I don't want any of the others to know about this, just Victor."

"When are you going to have the team strike Graydon?" Mystique asked quickly, following Rogue back to her room.

Rogue shook her head, closing the door behind them. "I'm not. This is going to be a solo mission. I'm not sure if I can trust the whole team."

"What about those you can trust?" Mystique questioned, becoming worried. She wasn't sure if this new idea was smart, but she had to have faith in Rogue. That was why she had asked her to head this little project.

"The only two that I trust completely are Havok and Victor," Rogue explained quickly. "Havok doesn't have the experience yet and this job is too big and important for him to fuck up. And I need Victor here in case my solo mission is jeopardized. If you don't hear from me in 12 hours, send the rest of the team. Have Victor on standby."

"You want them to go in blind?" Mystique was beginning to doubt this plan and wasn't sure if Rogue had completely recovered from her coma anymore. Maybe there was some brain damage that hadn't completely healed.

Rogue laughed lowly, a sound that sent chills up the other woman's spine. "That's how it usually is, Raven. You never really know what you're getting yourself into. But no, it won't be completely blind. Give them all of the information you have, including location and layout of Creed's private residence."

"But we only know the location," Mystique said quickly.

Rogue grabbed the single small bag she had returned with and threw it to land at Mystique's feet. "I did my own research while I was at the mansion. I have blueprints and layouts of both his home here and his vacation house in Miami, plus passwords and codes for all security and shifts that any guards may take. He has a large security system, including bodyguards. It seems that his life has been threatened numerous times by various mutant rights activists since he became District Attorney. They have everything they need; make them study it while I'm gone. Lead them to believe that I'm just out doing surveillance for tomorrow night or something."

"When do you leave?" Mystique asked, feeling nominally less queasy about the idea.

"One hour. I want to take a shower first, and the timing is better in the early morning, when the guards are just about to do their shift change." Rogue turned, ready to invade the closet yet again.

She hadn't told Mystique everything she had gleaned from the mind of Savannah Danvers. There were some things that the team just didn't need to know.


	26. That's The Plan!

She was wearing her new X-Men uniform, enjoying the way the leather felt like a second skin. It had been specially prepared and was ready for her within a week of waking from her coma. Still black, it was more like a bodysuit, without the bulk and padding the traditional uniforms required. With her invulnerability and strength, this new suit gave her more freedom of movement.

She moved quietly through the house, trying not to wake anyone. She didn't turn the lights on, relying on her enhanced sight to make out objects in the dark. It wasn't until she was at the door that she heard someone coming down the stairs.

"What the hell is going on, Frail?" If it had been anyone else, she would have easily sent them scurrying back upstairs.

"I'm going to see what I can do by myself. If the others ask, I'm just checking the outside perimeter, see what it's like over there," Rogue told him sharply, opting against a lie. He would have smelled it on her, anyway.

Victor sighed, wondering if she really did have a death wish. "Fuck, Rogue. You sure going by yourself is a good idea?"

"I learned a few things from the mind of Savannah Danvers," she replied slowly, looking down while she spoke. "This security team, they aren't average. They were chosen for their backgrounds - military, special ops - and they're expecting a team of mutants. They have orders to eliminate the others, everyone but me. They're supposed to keep me alive for Creed; she didn't know why, though. Carol didn't know anything about this, but it seems that Savannah found out that we were being kept in the same lab, and figured that she could kill two birds with one stone using the X-Men. She was preparing to hand both me and her sister over to Graydon for his own personal use. The rest of the team doesn't have the skill or the practice for infiltration yet. Not like this. And it has to be now, before Savannah is due to check in with her progress."

"So what happens if you get caught?" Victor asked gruffly, still somewhat uneasy. He could see her point, though: if the others went in with her, they would be completely annihilated.

"If you don't hear from me within 12 hours, I want you to bring in the rest of the team," Rogue replied quietly, turning the handle and opening the door.

"And if you get caught?"

"That's the plan, sugar," Rogue returned with a twisted smile before taking to the air.


	27. Demands All Around

He didn't knock, instead almost disconnecting the door from its hinges as he threw it open. His nostrils flaring in anger, he caught her scent right away. A tall blonde stood from where she was sitting next to an older, blind woman. He had no need to check her scent though, he already knew who it was. She had been wearing the same false face the last time he was here.

"Where is she?" he demanded, his claws sliding out slowly, glinting in the rays of the early morning sun.

Mystique couldn't help but roll her eyes at his display of male dominance. "Not here. I'll tell her you dropped by, though."

Logan growled deeply, his animal instinct kicking in. He could hear people whispering, although he couldn't make out what they were saying. Growling again, he stalked past the blue bitch in disguise, following the sound to the kitchen. He felt his anger rise even more when he found almost all of her team sitting around a table, all looking at him curiously.

"Where is she?" Logan asked again, his attention focusing on the youngest of the group.

Havok shrugged his shoulders, looking to the others for any suggestions. When none were offered, he too found himself a little worried. "I don't know. She was gone when we all got up this morning. What's your problem? Are those really necessary?"

"Remy be thinking de chère done ran out on mon ami, no?" Remy queried with a chuckle as he picked up his cup of coffee. "Why not take a seat with us, and tell Remy all about it, n'est-ce pas?"

"Logan, Rogue is on assignment," Mystique interrupted angrily. She really didn't want to have to clean up the Cajun's blood if she could help it. "We're expecting her back soon."

Logan smelled the lie the second she uttered the first syllable. Turning around slowly, he held his claws out, ready to impale anyone in the room to get the information he needed. "Who did she take with her?"

Mystique didn't answer, only narrowing her eyes.

"No one," Pyro answered nonchalantly as he stood from the table to get a drink of water. "We only just now found out she wasn't here. So why don't you get a bite to eat, and do what the rest of us have to do and wait."

"Because I'm not stuck taking orders from her," Logan replied quickly, his anger rising. "Where the hell is she?"

"I know where she is. We'll both go." No one had noticed Victor stalk into the kitchen through the back door. Mystique's eyes narrowed at the file he held in his hands. That was information that only Mystique and Rogue were supposed to know.

"The hell you will! She's doing her job right now. What are you so damn afraid of?" Mystique demanded. "She's the best damn fighter on this team. She's the one who would have the least problem taking someone out quietly."

"What kind of fucking mission is she on?" Logan growled, spittle foaming at the corner of his mouth. He wasn't sure what was going on, but he had a feeling that whatever Mystique wanted done couldn't be good.

The others all looked at each other, none of them sure what to say. The boy with white hair, Quicksilver, had the audacity to scratch his head as he turned his attention away from the question.

Victor cleared his throat, wanting to get the smaller man's attention. "It's an assassination, Jimmy."

"Let's go," Logan growled as he stalked toward the door Victor had entered through.

She was squatting in the bushes just outside of the front door when they found her. There were only three of them, and she could have taken them easily if she had wanted to, but that wouldn't have gotten her anywhere and may have alerted Creed to her new abilities, something she wanted to avoid until the end. He knew about her skin and that she had the ability to copy another's mutation for a brief moment, but he still didn't know what would happen with prolonged or multiple touches. It was going to be her element of surprise once she was able to get close enough to the big boss.

"Let's get her in the house and chained up. I'll have Vasquez give Creed a call. He'll probably be on the next flight back," the guard said with a light chuckle. "And remember Creed's orders, don't touch her skin. Keep an eye out for the others; they shouldn't be too far behind. If you see them, aim to kill."

She put up a small struggle as they pulled her into the house and down into the basement. She had hoped that Creed would be there, but obviously he was gone on some trip for whatever reason. He had anticipated her attacking the house, but had thought she would bring her team with her. The majority of his security would be watching out for the others, so they wouldn't be paying as much attention to her as they should be. Hopefully, her two shadows would stay hidden for now. Obviously, she would have to revise her plan to include their presence now.

He couldn't help the growl that escaped his throat as they watched her being dragged into the house. It took every ounce of willpower to keep himself from going in after her, and he wondered if the man at his side was experiencing the same turmoil.

"Calm down, Jimmy," Victor said quickly, his own voice a little shaky with worry. "We'll get her out of there, but she wanted to get caught, remember? She's got something planned that don't include us right now."

"You think she knows we're here?" Logan returned, a little irritated that the other feral continued to call him by that other name. He hated to admit - even to himself - that it pulled at his memory, almost like a tease.

"I don't know. She's been getting used to using her feral mutations and focusing on the area around her," Victor mused. "But if she was too focused on the guards and not her entire surroundings, she could have easily missed us. Remember, she was trying to get caught without looking too suspicious."

"So what do we do now?" Logan asked impatiently, feeling the familiar itch between his knuckles.

"We wait," Victor replied with a shrug, knowing that the idea grated as much on his counterpart's nerves as it did on his own.

"How long 'til Creed gets here?" Two guards had been placed inside the large basement and told to watch over her with direct orders not to touch. She had let herself have some hope that they would maybe only leave one with her. If she took him out, she could easily wander the large, three-storey home. She wanted to get a layout of the house in case things became too sticky. As her luck was running though, not only was she given two guards, but a third would also check in periodically. There was really no telling when he was going to come in through that door.

"We still have another hour, maybe more," the shorter of the two guards replied with a shrug. He was of obvious Hispanic descent, his accent reminiscent of East LA's Mexican barrios. While both had military haircuts, his was a deep black. Standing at around 5'9", his skin had an olive tone, and he had brown eyes that appeared a little sad. Every now and then, he would turn and ask her some minor detail about her life, trying to establish some kind of conversation. She wasn't interested.

The other guard would just laugh at him, asking him why he even thought she would answer. She was nothing but an animal trapped in a human body. This one probably reached about 6'4", towering over both herself and the other guard, with black hair in the same military haircut, clear blue eyes and lily-white skin. He would be handsome if not for the fact that he sent chills up and down her spine. Still, it was the glint she saw in his eyes whenever he looked her way that made her cringe. She knew that both would kill her under orders, but while she believed the young Hispanic guard might do what he could to make it quick, this one would drag it out and enjoy it.

The taller guard suddenly became very quiet, a grotesque smirk twisting his lips. "Hey, Vasquez, what do you say we have a little fun with her while we wait?"

"I say we were given a direct order not to touch her in any way," Vasquez replied briskly, his voice full of authority. "And if you touch her, I will take you out myself, O'Malley."

"Come on, Vasquez. When was the last time you got laid, anyway?" O'Malley parried with a soft chuckle. He walked toward her then, the glint in his eye getting brighter. Her skin began to crawl as he reached for her. "I got a couple interesting ideas about how to get around that skin of hers. And I fucking doubt Grady would say anything if he caught us."

It took every ounce of willpower not to break the shackles around her wrists, or the beam she was chained to. She felt the familiar buzz of currents flow through her body as she focused on utilizing her own mutation. If they tried to touch her, she would make sure she sucked them dry. Of course, she didn't like the idea of having more people trapped in her head, but if it came down to it, she wasn't going to hold back.

"Stand down, soldier," Vasquez barked, making strides to catch up with the bigger man. "This isn't what we are here for. If you touch her, I will have to take you out."

It was clear the threat wasn't empty, but that didn't phase O'Malley at all. He was too determined to get what he wanted. "Just because you don't want a piece doesn't mean that I shouldn't have some. She's a pretty little thing, isn't she?"

He reached out to brush her hair away from her face, but before she could so much as move an inch, the bastard was tossed to the ground.

"I told you to stand down, soldier," Vasquez grunted harshly. Rogue watched with shock as his brown eyes began to glow blue, his muscles expanding right before her eyes.

O'Malley froze mid-stance as he watched his comrade grow before him, fear rippling down his spine. Vasquez swung once, hitting the other man squarely in the jaw and sending him back to the floor. Rogue watched with open curiosity as two teeth rolled from his open mouth. He wasn't going to be getting back up again anytime soon.

"Let me help you out of those," Vasquez said quickly, closing the distance between them as he reached for the shackles around her wrists.

Rogue glared at him, anger at her would-be protector seeping in even as she pulled back from him. "You're a mutant? What the fuck are you doing here!"

"My group is looking into this project," Vasquez explained, still trying to reach for the shackles that she continued to keep out of his reach. "Why don't you let me break those for you?"

"Because if I really wanted to, I would have broken them a long time ago and taken you both out. As it is, I have a fucking job to do, and you've just compromised everything. What project are you talking about?" As far as Rogue knew, Graydon Creed was just another fanatic trying to eradicate the mutant problem. The reason she was called in to take him out was the fact that he was quickly gaining more power and could easily become the next mayor of Las Vegas. From there, it was only a few more steps to the presidency. Or, he could even just skip the mayor bit; with his rapidly growing popularity, that wasn't out of the realm of possibility.

Vasquez sighed as his body returned to normal. "I work with a small group of mutants known as X-Factor. We based our group on the X-Men out east. We generally work within the borders of California, trying to contain some of the problems surrounding mutant-human relations, especially in the Los Angeles area, but a few days ago, we received word that there was a connection between Creed and a string of mutant disappearances. From what we know, a mutant fighting circuit is making the rounds all along the west coast. These mutants are generally young, with uncontrollable mutations. They are usually children who have been forced from their homes by families who do not want anything to do with them after they manifest. They are already vulnerable by the time they are thrown into the circuit, and are easily manipulated into believing they don't have any chance of escape. That's really all we know. We're not even really sure how these mutants are being found in the first place."

"I bet I know how," Rogue whispered to herself. "I take it there are more of you here?"

"Yeah, three on the outside, doing surveillance, two more mixed in with the fifteen guards on duty now, excluding me, and two more for the night shift. The three on surveillance wouldn't fit in with this group, so they stayed on the outside," he explained, scratching his chin.

Rogue was busy thinking about her own plan, and how these newcomers would fit in. Eventually, she would have her own team here and any help before then would be gladly accepted. "Tell me what their powers are, I need to know what I am working with. Start with the group on surveillance. I've got two ferals out there, both very powerful, both looking for a fight, and both only barely tolerating each other. Your team may not stand a chance."

"My team can take care of themselves," Vasquez countered somewhat heatedly. He was very devoted to the people he worked with. Rogue took this as a good sign, but his inability to admit any potential weaknesses would cost him in the near future. "They've been doing this for about three years now. I have faith in them."

"That faith is going to get them killed if you don't consider what they may be up against before opening your damn mouth," Rogue returned nonchalantly. Her voice was casual, but there was no mistaking the fire in her eyes. They weren't speaking as mutants any longer, but as leaders of two individual groups, both passionate about their cause. "You have no idea what these two are capable of. They're both healers, both feral with heightened senses, so it is close to impossible to hide from them, bad tempers, and claws unlike any you would believe. Both are extensively trained in various martial arts. They are animals when their tempers take over. Your team isn't going to know what happened until they get to the afterlife."

"My team can handle it," Vasquez assured her, but she couldn't ignore the tremor in his voice. He was beginning to have his own doubts. "There is Rusty, a pyrokinetic and Rictor causes earthquakes. Strong Guy and Warpath both have super-strength, Wolfsbane can turn into a wolf at will, Artie can project images of what he is saying and Forge is a technokinetic. Wolfsbane, Forge and Artie are out on surveillance. I doubt that even a feral would attack them. Especially this group."

"Why is that?" Rogue inquired, not understanding his slight chuckle.

Vasquez shook his head, looking away from her. "Well, Forge might be in some danger, but Wolfsbane is a woman, and Artie is twelve."

"And you honestly think that would stop them?" Rogue demanded, incredulous. She allowed herself a small chuckle of her own then, bringing his gaze back to her. "Maybe it might stop Wolverine, but I doubt it would stop Sabretooth. He won't care if it's just a little boy. If he feels threatened by Artie at all, he'll go for the kill."

"You smell them too, don't ya, Runt…" Victor remarked, his eyes focusing in on a spot deep in the mountain the house was built next to. They could hear small conversations that any normal person wouldn't have been able to pick up unless they got within throwing distance of the group.

"There's a kid, Victor," Logan observed, testing the scents around them even as he ignored the nickname. "And a woman. They aren't part of this. At least, not in the way you think."

"It doesn't matter what they're here for. They're going to get themselves killed if they don't shut up," Victor said slowly, stalking towards the campsite.

"Get her ready," a guard with short blond hair snapped, barely glancing through the entrance. "Creed's on his way."

Rogue found it odd that he hadn't mentioned anything about the body lying in the middle of the floor. She looked at Vasquez curiously.

Vasquez shrugged. "Rusty. He knows not to ask too many questions. If he had been in here any longer, he would have drawn attention."

"And what happens when you're supposed to take me to the big boss?" Rogue asked wryly, her eyes growing wide.

"Rusty will come back and help me escort you. We'll tell them that O'Malley got a bit antsy and tried to get a little physical," Vasquez replied slowly, the idea forming in his mind. "Rusty and I had to take him down. By the time the asshole comes to, the mission will be complete and we will be on our way home."

"He's not going to come to," Rogue told him slowly, her eyes narrowing. "Wolverine or Sabretooth will find him and kill him and be upset about how easy it was. I'll hear about it for weeks."

"They're going to kill him?" Vasquez looked shocked now, trying to shake off visions of what those two men were apparently capable of.

Rogue nodded as she looked around the room. "Yes. They are going to kill everyone here. Unless they get some word that you and your buddies are here trying to do some good too."

The door opened again, and the man Vasquez had identified as Rusty entered slowly, his eyes darting around. "You ready for this?"

"Do we have a choice?" Vasquez asked, taking slow, deep breaths to regain his composure. "Where are the others?"

"Waiting for some kind of signal. Warpath and Strong Guy are still in their bunk. They slept earlier, and I think Strong Guy is itching for a fight," Rusty replied as he hurried down the stairs. "I take it she knows what's going on?"

"Not only does she know, but she's got a couple of ferals stalking the grounds," Vasquez commented, grabbing the chain that shackled her wrists. "You ever heard of Wolverine or Sabretooth?"

Rusty turned pale at the mention of those names. "Yeah, I've heard of them. And what I've heard isn't worth the risk of repeating. Wolverine is supposed to be up north at some school, and nobody has seen Sabretooth in years. You're running with them?" he demanded.

Rogue shrugged her shoulders, brushing off Rusty's shock with a roll of her eyes. "Yeah, I run with them. Actually, they followed me here. Now, I do have a job to do, so can we please go?"


	28. Friend Or Feral

"You want to take the little one?" Victor's growl was loud enough for the small party in the camp to hear. There were three of them sitting just outside a large tent, and the two ferals had approached undetected, a sign that they were unprepared. "He looks kind of tasty. What do you think, Jimmy?"

Logan growled at the bigger man, moving forward with his arms spread wide. "Knock it off, old man. I doubt they're much of a threat."

"If you come closer, we'll be forced to kill you," the oldest of the group warned, standing to meet the new threat head on. He was of average height, and had long black hair with streaks of silver that was pulled back into a ponytail at the base of his neck, though he wasn't really that old. His dark complexion and high cheekbones beautifully highlighted his Native American ancestry. "Who are you?"

"Name's Wolverine," Logan said slowly, keeping his arms spread before him, trying to be non-threatening. Of course, the growl coming from Victor wasn't helping much. "You're all mutants, right?"

"Yes," the man replied slowly, keeping two others behind him. The boy had the decency to look scared, but the girl looked like she was just waiting to attack, probably itching for a fight. "We will not go with you. We will not be contributed to that man's games."

"What man's games?" Victor asked slowly, becoming more serious. His tone was less playful now, full of the promise of death and more if they didn't speak. "What exactly are we going up against here?"

Logan knew that he wouldn't be able to stop Victor if he decided that the group hadn't given them everything they knew. If he was honest with himself, he wasn't sure if he wanted to stop him. Rogue was in there, and if this was something bigger than any of them realized, she could be in for a hard fall. Logan would tear out every throat in the place to get her back.

The girl's nervousness rose as the seconds dragged on, and Logan noticed her fidgets increasing. She was afraid of them, but not because of what they were; she wasn't sure which team they were on. As if she were trying not to scratch a terrible itch, her hands twitched and he noted her muscles flexing as her eyes darted between he and Victor. He could hear her heart racing, her scent oozing animalistic fear, along with a mixture of adrenaline and strength that was hard to ignore.

The animalistic note to her fear was what caught his attention, though. She was definitely a feral, too many of her mannerisms screamed animal and alpha. He had a feeling that if Rogue were with them, a fight neither he nor Victor could stop would already be under way. It was bad enough getting two alpha males to play nice, but females? An alpha female was infinitely more dangerous when provoked.

Logan slid his glance to Victor and noted the twitch in his jaw. His eyes stayed on the girl, watching her every move. The older man had gone quiet, moving away from the three ferals. He knew danger when he saw it, and he didn't think either party would think twice about ripping an old man and small boy to shreds to get at each other's throats.

"Don't do anything stupid, lady," Logan whispered slowly, putting his hand towards her. He knew she was a feral, but not how extreme her mutation was. For all he knew, she could only have the acute senses, but the soft growl coming from her throat and the way she kept twitching told him not to be a fool. She was dangerous, even if only to herself. If she attacked…

He didn't get the chance to finish his thought before she was on him. But it wasn't her, at least not in human form. As she lunged for him, the muscles in her body rippled and shifted, growing in strength and hair sprouted through the rips in her clothes. Even her face changed as her nose elongated with her mouth to form a snout and her canines grew razor sharp.

All of this occurred while she was still in the air. Within seconds, Logan found himself face to face with a rather large, overgrown wolf doing her best to rip his face off. He growled in return as his arms crossed and pressed against her throat. With a grunt, he used all his strength to throw the girl off him.

Releasing his claws, he stepped forward even as she began to pace back and forth, still growling.

"Call your dog off," Victor told the others even as he allowed his own growl to escape. He wasn't going to jump in this one, knowing that Logan would be able to handle himself. "He will kill her if he has to."

"How do you know she won't kill him? Or that we won't kill you?" the man asked cautiously, his voice soft and low. Then he raised his left arm, which appeared to be made of wire.

Victor watched as parts of the arm shifted and opened, revealing a pretty little gun that made him smile. He shrugged slowly, crossing his arms and looking back toward the fight. The combatants were still circling each other, growling. "Because even if she rips his throat out, it will grow back. Just like me. So go right ahead and use your little toy. Whatever you shoot will just grow back and I'm going to be just as pissed as Wolverine over there. I can guarantee you and your little… group will not survive."

The man looked from the animal before him to the two still circling each other. The woman was loudly snapping her dripping jaws together, while Logan emitted a deeper, terrifying growl from deep inside his chest.

The man with the gun didn't get the chance to call her back, though. A small voice spoke up from behind him before she could lunge again.

"Wolfsbane… Please?" The boy stepped from behind the man, swallowing his fear as he made his way to the wolf, his blue eyes large with determination even has his hands shook from the fear he was trying to force down. His longish brown hair was shaggy around the back of his neck and ears, and hung low over his eyes. He was small for his age, and for a moment, Logan was sure the wolf would attack him. She continued to growl at Logan, even as the boy came closer and reached his hand out to touch her.

They all watched as she slowly began to relax, the growl subsiding as the boy began whispering to her. The man couldn't hear the boy's words, but Logan and Victor picked everything up as if he were having a regular conversation.

"It's fine, Bane. I promise. They aren't here to hurt us. They've come to help us," the boy murmured comfortingly as he continued to run his hands through her fur. "It's fine, we'll be fine. They aren't here to hurt us. I promise."

The wolf calmed, sitting back on her hind legs, her ears lowering as she looked away from Logan to the boy. Logan allowed his claws to retract, not taking his eyes off the figures. The wolf began changing, her muscles recoiling even as her bones began shrinking. Within seconds, she appeared human again. Her long hair was a brownish red color he had never seen before, with a tan complexion, and deep green eyes. She wore absolutely nothing, since her clothes had been shredded during her shift to wolf form. Her full breasts were on display for all to see, yet she showed no modesty by trying to cover them up.

"If you would please put something on, Bane," the leader of their little group suggested. Logan was trying hard not to take in the view, but he knew Victor was probably leering at the woman known as Wolfsbane.

Slowly, she turned without taking her eyes from the other ferals, and took her time stepping into the large tent. Logan couldn't help looking at and comparing her to Rogue. As nice as they were, her breasts weren't as big as Rogue's and her butt wasn't as firm and high. Logan couldn't help but smirk; she had nothing on Rogue.

"I've seen better," Victor chuckled from behind him, and it took a lot of willpower not to join him. They weren't here to check out the other team.

"Who are you?" the child asked, tilting his head towards them. His eyes held no fear now, and his scent was only tainted by the rich scent of curiosity.

"I'm Wolverine," Logan answered, choosing to give his mutant name. He still didn't know who or what he was dealing with, and still did not trust them. If they asked about Wolverine, they would get stories about a vicious animal-like man who was not to be messed with. "What are you doing out here? All of you?"

"We're waiting," the boy answered slowly. He stuck out his hand, waiting for Logan to take it.

Logan only cocked a brow, understanding what he wanted. "I'm not touching you, kid. I just saw what you can do. I ain't letting you mess with my head."

The boy's eyes beamed as he smiled broadly. "I wasn't going to change your feelings, Wolverine. I just wanted a friendly handshake."

"All the same, I don't wanna take the chance," Logan replied, still not accepting the boy's offer. "What are you doing out here?"

"Waiting for our friends, keeping an eye out for anything… unusual," the boy explained, shrugging at the other man. "We have some people in the DA's house, posing as security. He's up to something big and we are here to stop him."

"So are we. A friend of ours is in there right now, pretending to be a helpless, trapped mutant. Is it safe to assume that she will get help if she needs it?" Logan arched an eyebrow at the child, wondering who was really in charge here.

The boy shrugged his shoulders again, the only answer Logan received. "My name is Raymond. That man in there took my sister from me and left me to die on the streets. The only thing that he said to me was that she was going to be his new pet. Three weeks later, Forge found her dead in the park a block from where we were staying."

"I take it, you're Forge?" Logan asked, raising a brow toward the other man. He only nodded, confirming Logan's suspicion. "Where do you come in to this?"

"I lived next door to Raymond and his sister since the boy was a baby. Their parents were both mutants, and good friends of mine. Neither was very powerful in their own right, but the children turned out to be quite exceptional," the man elaborated, fighting the memories. "When the incident at Alcatraz happened, there was a riot and our building was set on fire. I was able to save the children, but their parents didn't make it."

Logan nodded, understanding that no one really wanted to speak about what happened that night.

"I took care of the children as best I could, but we were all homeless after the fire. His sister Jessica was already 16 by that time," Forge continued, his shoulders tensing as he spoke. "She looked out for the boy while I was trying to find food and shelter. Her abilities had come in a year before, while his mutation was triggered the night of the fire. They both have empathy, but hers is not as powerful.

"She wasn't the first to disappear. We've found others like us, people whose loved ones have disappeared. Most wanted to leave it alone, chalk it up as another mutant experience. But a few wanted to fight back. They are in that compound right now, posing as security, hoping to access any information on why this is happening."

"And the one in the tent is…"

"Wolfsbane," the voice came from the tent, soft and melodic, a slight accent only barely detectable. She stepped out wearing a pair of shorts and a small shirt. "You really think your friend will make it? If she's another feral, she won't last the week."

"Rogue isn't a normal feral," Logan replied slowly. "She's there to do a job and she'll do anything she can to make them believe she's playing their little game until the job is done."

"Then she is a damn fool. They use mutants to the point of death, and discard them like trash," Wolfsbane told him slowly, a growl threaded through her words.

"Not Rogue," Victor replied slowly, taking a seat on one of the boulders the trio had pulled into their campsite. "They'll want to keep her as long as they can. They were looking for her, specifically."

"And what makes her so damn special?" the female feral demanded indignantly, crossing her arms across her barely clad breasts.

Victor's lips twisted into something that could have been a smile or grimace. His eyes narrowed as he cocked his head to the side, maniacal thoughts running through his head. "They don't even know she's a feral. Her original mutation is her skin. She can take lives and abilities, even thoughts and memories with a single touch. She is death incarnate, so to speak."

"He's in the office on the third floor. Last door to the right at the end of the hall," Rusty whispered to her as they walked through the halls. There were three other doors before it, two bedrooms and a bathroom. There were three more bedrooms on the other side, but they were all for show, even the office. "He only uses this room for situations like this."

"Do you know where his real office is? Where he keeps his documents?" Rogue whispered. She needed those documents. From the memories she had garnered from Savannah, she wasn't the only targeted mutant. She still didn't know exactly what was going on. Savannah hadn't been as close to Creed as she would have liked to believe, and the holes in Savannah's information were now hers. If she could get to those documents, she would be able to find out not only who they were after, but also who was involved.

"I don't know for sure. I don't even think that it's kept here," Rusty mused, glancing around to make sure no one was watching them. The stairs were deserted, and the rest of the guards were outside, watching for any sign of her team. "But if he does decide to keep you, you will travel everywhere with him, and his set of bodyguards."

"When will he decide?" Rogue asked slowly, a plan forming in her mind. She really didn't want to touch Creed if it could be helped, and if it would be easier to go along with this psycho's plans, she would gladly do it.

"It could be as soon as right now," Rusty replied with a shrug of his shoulders as they came to the top of the third floor.

"I need you to get a message to the men in the woods. Tell them to lay low, but stay close. They'll know what you mean." As she was lead by her chains, Rogue didn't take her eyes off their destination. She would finally look into the eyes of the man she had promised to kill.


	29. Insanity

"You are a hard woman to track down," Creed said happily as she was forcefully pushed into the chair before his desk. He stood, walking around the large, mahogany piece to stand in front of her. It was the perfect chance to take him out, but she didn't want his greasy thoughts in her head. She was still hoping to get the information by stealing it the old fashioned way. "But you are a beauty, aren't you? Not my type, of course. I prefer something with a little more elegance and class. No, you remind me of the stories my step-mother used to tell me. About a child who grew up wild with wolves. I guess that explains why you are so attracted to… animals."

"At least my animals love me," Rogue replied with a grin, not missing the digs. "You really are the spitting image of your father, you know. Too bad that, in a few more years, you will probably be confused for his father. Oh well, we can't all be blessed with the right mutations, can we?"

"Say what you want, Filth. Just as long as you do what you are told, I don't give a damn." Creed leaned against his desk, surveying her closely. "Yes, I believe you will do. With your small stature and that pretty face, you will be my prized possession, so to speak. And, with you unique gifts, we can make you the most powerful mutant in the world."

"You're delusional," Rogue replied with a roll of her eyes. "How would you even try to accomplish this?"

"Well, I actually have your first two subjects standing behind you." Creed smiled viciously, eyeing both Rusty and Vasquez.

Rogue had no problem holding on to her calm facade, but, judging from the way Creed's eyes lit up, she knew that both men easily showed their shock. She would have to get them out of here.

Reaching for her gloves, she heard the door behind them open, slamming into the wall hard enough to leave a hole the size of the door knob. "Now, Rogue. You didn't really think it was going to be that easy to take me out, did you?"

She concentrated for a moment, listening to the sounds of the men behind her breathing. Trying harder she was able to pick up on another set of sounds. Stifled thumping noises, A bit fast and exited. Heart beats. Doing a quick count, she was able to estimate that there were five guards, not including Rusty and Vasquez. By herself, she would have no problem taking all of them out, but, as it was, the X-Man in her couldn't take the chance of sacrificing the other two mutants. She cursed herself silently as she narrowed her eyes at the man before her.

"Now, my dear, you didn't really believe that I would allow just anyone to join my team without looking as deeply into their backgrounds as possible, did you?" Creed laughed as he spoke, allowing the thrill of the situation to feed into his insanity. "When I first came across them, I thought about killing them for being so brazen to believe that I would actually allow the mutant disease into my personal ranks. But then it occurred to me how powerful these freaks were, and I wanted to see what they were capable of without the use of their mutations. They were put through a vigorous test, which they all passed easily. It was at this same time when I received word about you. I knew I had to have you. You would be my greatest asset, but the others… well, it would have just been wasteful. So I decided against having just one or two mutants, to having a collection, with you at the forefront, of course."

"What would be the point in all of this?" Rogue asked, trying to keep her voice calm. "Why have a team of mutants in the first place, Creed? Would you really want a security unit full of the very people you hate?"

Creed laughed loudly, his head rolling back and his chest expanding as he did so. Rogue did her best to hide the confusion bubbling up inside of her. Why else would a man of his standing want to be surrounded by a team of mutants?

"This has nothing to do with Security," Creed told her, his voice rising with the manic frenzy. "This is about money and entertainment, my dear. The strongest mutants pitted against each other to see who will win. Men and women pitted against one another to prove who is the ultimate champion. This is about the return of the Gladiators."

Rogue found herself speechless. She wasn't expecting this… this barbaric ritual. "You are going to make us fight for your enjoyment?"

"Of course. It's either that or kill you. It will be easy enough to keep you under control with a few of those collars we brought from the labs you were kept in. You see, Sweetheart, we were in the midst of closing the deal on you specifically when you made your daring escape. I actually thought that I would never have you, either," Creed's smile widened as he spoke. "But then you and that little group showed up, wanting to be crime fighters. Clean up this city. But you don't have to worry about that anymore. I will clean it up. By the time I get out of office, the mutant menace will be over."

She fought the urge to attack him then, trying to keep in mind the other's involved. The part of her that was still an X-Man wouldn't allow her to put the other's in danger.

"If you come out now, we won't have to kill you," the yell came from their left, towards the house. Logan's nostrils flared as he tested the air around him. They had found themselves surrounded, and Logan wondered just what kind of security team Greydon Creed had in his arsenal. He hadn't even heard them arrive, and he wasn't expecting this many people. "If you fight us, we will kill her. We have men on standby waiting for the signal. I suggest you follow orders."

Logan didn't have to ask who the unseen man was talking about. She was in there with a group of mutants who didn't really know what they were doing.

"Just say the word and we attack," Victor whispered to him. His own gaze was sweeping the area around them, trying to catch a glimpse of any of the guards. Victor stopped moving suddenly, his eyes focused on something a couple of feet away. A smile tugged at his lips even as Logan sought out what ever it was that caught Victor's attention. A black boot, just barely visible through the brush. "I've got this."

"No," Logan whispered harshly. "We get inside first. We get to Rogue and the others before we do anything."

Victor's only reply was a deep growl that emanated from deep within his belly. "Fine, but after we find her, you do not get in my way."

"I can handle that, as long as you promise to explain to me why you keep calling me Jimmy," Logan told him quickly even as they both raised their hands and slowly walked towards the soldiers before them.

"There were other mutants in your camp. Where are they?" Rogue asked quickly, trying to keep as much control as possible. She needed to buy some time to formulate a plan to get them all out of here.

"The brutes are dead," Creed replied with a shrug. "Waste of life. There wasn't any real need for them, though. They may have been strong, but both were too stupid to cover their asses. That kind of stupidity would have cost me a lot of money, and I already have someone planned for you to take. I could have sold them, but I doubt they would have been worth it."

Rogue cringed inwardly at his words, but her façade stayed straight. He only spoke of two people, and she had a feeling those two were Warpath and Strong Guy.

"But the third, he was something a little more special," Creed continued, his tone growing darker. "I only regret that he had to die the way he did. Under normal circumstances, I probably would have kept him for my own team, but he knew too much about me and refused to give up any information on his little friends. He died valiantly, if painfully. You should be proud."


	30. Turn Of The Tides

She heard their footsteps before they reached the top of the stairs. She forced herself not to smile as the door slowly opened behind them. She wondered how long it would take Creed to realize he had made a mistake by bringing them here.

She caught the scents of the new guards, and also three more mutants besides her own. Two of which were male, one in the beginning of his life, the other closer to the end than he was allowing the others to believe. She could smell it on him; death and illness. Weakening of his organs. It was hard to mask the stench of a diseased body, but she would not let on that she knew. She would give this stranger the grace to tell whom ever he wanted when he chose. She wondered if her two ferals would have as much tact, though.

The other mutant made the hairs on the back of her neck rise. This new member was female, about the same age. And another feral. Rogue suppressed the growl that was building in her throat. It surprised her, though. She hadn't encountered anything like this before. This atomatic anger and hostility just by picking up an unfamiliar scent.

"Ah yes, the other members of my collection. Of course, I won't be keeping all of you," Creed stated with a sadistic smile. "Actually, about half of you will be auctioned off. Frankly, the thought of having a couple of you any where near me makes my skin crawl. I would rather you were someone else's problem."

"I've missed you, too, son," Victor replied with a growl, flashing his canines.

"My father…" Creed practically growled as he spoke the endearment, "will be the first to go. I have settled his price and his owner is only waiting for him to be delivered. His transportation will be here shortly. In the mean time, my men will place these unique collars on all of you. A necessary precaution."

Creed nodded and a few of his men stepped forward, collars in hand. Rogue and Victor both knew exactly what those collars meant. They were the same devices that had been placed on them while they were still in the lab.

"No," Rogue whispered as one of the guards drew closer to her. She could feel every voice, every person she had ever collected in her head begin to panic. Every single one of them refused to go through that fiasco again. None wanted to go back to being mere whispers and shadows in her head.

Rogue screamed and grabbed her head even as her body jerked to the floor. The voices grew louder, slamming through the barriers she had put in place between the personalities within her own head and herself. She could see the guard stepping away from her, wary of what she was doing. She gave no thought to him as the voices swarmed over her and fought for control.

The last thing she heard was Logan screaming her name, her real name, even as she hit the floor.

He tried to catch her as she fell, but the other was much closer and was able to scoop her just out of reach. Logan could feel his hackles rise as he watched Victor gather her close. He still didn't like to see them together under any circumstances, but even he could admit that she was safe in the savages arms.

Logan growled as Creed nodded to his security team again, signaling them to step forward. Victor let out his own growl, his shoulders hunching even as he held Rogue close to himself.

"You ready for this, Jimmy?" Victor asked slowly, gently placing Rogue on the ground and giving himself a wide stance. "It's kind of a tight spot, but I think we can take them."

"Just keep Rogue safe," Logan replied, nodding to Victor.

"She's going to be pissed when she comes back." There was no time for a retort. One of the guards had gained a momentum of courage and attacked, aiming the collar for Wolfbane. Logan let out a roar even as he watched her morph into her animal form and lunge for the man, her jaws clamping around the arm holding the collar and snapping it in half.

Everything became a blur then. The handful of mutants fighting against one another. Artie had moved to the side, hiding amongst the shadows, watching as Creed jumped to make his escape. Artie realized that he hadn't been the only one who noticed when he heard another loud roar fill the room, this one more feminine, more animalistic. But Artie knew that it hadn't been Wolfsbane who growled.

No one stopped moving, with the exception of Creed. He turned slowly, and Artie could see the fear in his eyes. Artie followed his gaze around the large room. He had a hard time trying to find what ever it was

In the years to come, Artie would grow into a man named Arthur who would do a great many things and die alone, always looking for a lover who could match the power the one woman before him exuded. It wasn't her physical strength or her mutation that called to him, though, but the power that seemed to float around the room even as she walked.

Her calmness seemed to sing to his blood, and he felt drunk off of it. For only a second, he seemed to wonder if anyone else in the room felt her presence, felt the dizzy wave of power this woman seemed to exude without realizing it, but the thought was quickly dismissed as he allowed her aura to enrapture him.

Her hair fell loosely around her shoulders, brown chestnut hair that fell far down her back. White streaks that flowed effortlessly around her face like a halo. So beautiful that, for a moment, Artie believed he was dead and this was an angel come to save his soul.

He realized how close to the truth this was when she growled before taking flight and launching herself across the room and into the man who had brought them all together. He adverted his eyes, knowing that this wasn't something he would be able to stomach.

"You are one seriously twisted son of a bitch," Rogue muttered as she pinned Creed against a book case. "You do realize how badly you fucked up when you brought Wolverine and Victor in here, don't you?"

"Get the hell off of me," Creed demanded as he tried to push against her lithe form. "I don't want your filthy hands on me."

"Who's got you wrapped around their little finger, Creed?" Rogue asked, enjoying his struggle. "Because after being stuck in this house with you, I can guarantee you are not smart enough to pull off the enslavement of mutants this powerful."

She moved her face closer to his, letting her cheek brush against his lightly, her skin turned off. She felt him try to flinch away, but her grasp on his neck wouldn't allow it. "You don't like it when I do that, do you, Creed?"

Her voice had become husky, more seductive, as she pushed her body against him. "Why don't we take this somewhere a little more private, Sugar?"

He couldn't help but whimper as he was pulled away from the wall and dragged out of the room, the other's all unaware of their departure. All except one little boy .


	31. Vengence

She dragged him to the roof, allowing his body to drop unceremoniously even as she landed gracefully next to him. He tried to roll away from her, groaning even as he made the slightest move. It had been too easy to allow his body to crash into every obstacle in their way as she flew.

"Get up, Creed," Rogue said shortly. She had no empathy for this man at her feet. He was a monster unlike any she had come face to face with before. She couldn't find it in her self to muster any pity for him even as she kicked him in his left rib.

She watched him stand, listening to his teeth grind even as he did so. He was in a lot of pain, and Rogue wondered briefly if maybe that last kick was a little too far. She brushed the thought away. Of course not. She was going to dole out a lot worse very soon.

"Bitch," he whispered venomously as he pulled himself to his feet, clutching his left side.

Rogue flashed him a sugary smile even as she reached for him. Her hand tangled in the hair at the base of his neck as she pulled him close to her. He spun so that his back was to her, an arm twisted behind him, her breath in his ear. "You do realize that there is no protection for you up here, right? All of your little boys are still in the house, fighting for their lives. Did you even warn them of what they could be up against when you told them that you wanted me alive? None of that matters now. I need some answers, Creed. I need to know who it is who set this whole damn thing up. Who is it that started this little slave trade you have going on, Creed?"

He remained silent even as he continued to clutch at his side. She twisted his other arm just a bit further, hearing him scream as she did so. Just a little more, and she knew that it would be broken. She really hoped that it would come to that. "Just tell me, Creed, and, who knows, I might just find a way to keep you out of the general population. Just think. All those dangerous mutants doing time for something they didn't do. Weren't you the one who put them away, Creed? Aren't you the D.A.?"

He kept his mouth shut still. She couldn't resist the smile that played on her lips as she twisted his arm again, relishing as she heard and felt the bone splinter and the joint pop in his shoulder. He screamed again, falling to his knees this time, his left arm hanging uselessly by his side.

"Well, I tried to get you to talk. But I guess that I'll just have to do this the old fashioned way." Rogue shrugged her shoulders as she felt the warm buzz of her mutation come to life under her skin. She reached out again, this time grabbing Creed by his face and feeling everything he knew seep into her mind.

She held on tightly even as his body began to convulse. She was going to take everything she could from him. Every dirty little secret he had been trying to hold on to.

His body collapsed as she finally pulled away.

She found them still in the office, looking over their damage. Rogue wondered how many they had each actually killed, and if they had allowed any of the other mutants to extract their pound of flesh. Looking around the room, her eyes stopped on the little boy hiding in the corner. His eyes were wide with fear and he was shaking. He had probably never seen anything like what transpired within this room. She suddenly felt a strong urge to punch both Logan and Victor right in the face.

She could feel the eyes of the other's on her back as she walked towards the boy, especially those of the female feral in the room. She kept her control tightly reigned in as she passed her, catching her scent and storing it for a later date. Rogue couldn't figure out why, but she could practically feel her blood sing for the chance to attack the other woman.

She knelt in front of the boy slowly, watching his eyes dart around the room. It took a few seconds, but his gaze finally landed on her face. She smiled at him, hoping that the smile was as warm as she was trying to make it seem.

"What's your name, kid?" Rogue asked slowly. He really wasn't much of a kid. He was small and short for his age, but Rogue suspected that he was quickly coming up on those horrendous teenage years.

"Artie." His voice squeaked as he spoke.

"How old are you?" She asked slowly.

He looked at her blankly for a breath, and she felt her heart clench. "I'm twelve. I will be thirteen next month."

"And what's your mutation?"

He shrugged. "It's nothing special. I'm just an empath. I can tap into the emotions of other people and control them."

"That's actually a really good mutation," Rogue told him with a smile, her voice strong and sincere. He returned her smile, appreciating how she didn't demean him by speaking to him as if he was still a child. "How would you like to come back to a school built for people like us? The kids there are pretty normal. They aren't going to judge you just because you have this ability. They are way more interested in clothes and all the other teenage bull."

"It sounds interesting. Are you coming, too?" Artie asked expectantly. Rogue was satisfied hat the massacre he had witnessed hadn't damaged him, but she was concerned about what he might have seen before this to harden him.

She smiled lightly, having made up her mind before she had even entered this building. "Yes, I'm going back with you. I have some things I need to take care of there."

"What about the others?" Artie whispered slowly. Rogue realized that he hadn't heard what Creed had disclosed to her, Vasquez, and Rusty.

"They aren't here," she whispered to him, her own mind tumbling over the best way to deliver the news. She couldn't leave him wondering, though. He has able to withstand the witnessing of the carnage around them, he would should be able to handle this. "Warpath and Strong Guy were killed quickly."

He didn't say anything, only nodding once, his eyes traveling to where the feral woman stood. Rogue followed his gaze, noticing the pain etched in her features, the longing and uncertainty in her eyes. "And Rictor?"

Rogue sighed, the hope in the feral woman's eyes coming to the surface. Rogue knew the look on the other woman's face well. She wore that same expression not that long ago, when she was little more than a child waiting for her protector to return home, pinning over an unrequited love.

"Gone." Rogue felt her shoulders sag as she spoke. She watched the other feral close her eyes against the news. Her entire expression wore the pain that was in her heart, and Rogue felt her aggression lessen a little. She was at a loss for words.

There were no voices in her head at this moment. She could feel their presence, but none were offering any suggestions on how to handle this situation. With all the years worth of memories, she could bring forth, she could recall all different deaths, but none could ever help her deal with this situation. There were no words brought forth that could magically heal those around her. The only healing would be the acceptance from both, and even that left a bitter taste in her mouth.

"Then there is no one left here?" Artie asked slowly, shaking his head in grief. Rogue could smell the tears the boy was having a hard time letting go of. She nodded to the others as she stood, turning Artie with her and leading him on the path to his new home.


	32. It's Over

She was still in her blond costume, in case one of the other's came in the room. She hadn't told many of them who she really was, mainly because she had made an important impact in some of their lives, and she didn't need it coming back to haunt her right now. Especially where the damn Cajun was concerned.

She watched as the large group filed in one at a time. Rogue was the last to enter, following closely to a boy that Mystique guessed couldn't have been older than ten. Her first impression of the new editions were that they must have been held captive by Creed, also. But she brushed that aside upon seeing that two of them wore the uniforms that her estranged son was fond of for his security. There was more to these new mutants, and Mystique was bristling in her wait to get the full story.

Rogue didn't say anything, only a slight nod to affirm Mystique's question. There was definitely tension filling the room with each passing moment, and while Mystique could understand how it could all be tied into the saga that was Rogue, Wolverine, and Sabretooth, she wasn't sure how the new young woman in their midst was attached to the ordeal. Mystique briefly wondered if maybe Logan had something to do with it all. It usually did lead back to him in one way or another, and it was painfully obvious that this woman was a feral in her own right.

"Raven, I would like you to meet Vasquez, Rusty, Forge, Artie, and Wolfsbane." Rogue pointed to each respective individual as she spoke. "We met up with them at the compound. Creed was going to sell them off. Lady and gentlemen, I would like you to meet Raven Darkholme, mother of Greydon Creed."

Mystique felt five pairs of eyes instantly become glued to her. Any normal person would have left the room as quickly as possible, but Mystique was no normal person. She straightened her back and squared her shoulders as she met each one of their stares head on. "Is he dead?"

"Rogue killed him. We kept his guards busy," Vasquez replied slowly, his gaze full of doubt and indictment. "What are you?"

She smiled slowly, allowing her eyes to flash their normal yellow glow before shifting them back to the blue she was currently fond of. "What do you think?"

"Good to know," Rusty whispered, grabbing Vasquez by the arm and leading him to the table where the others were currently sitting.

"What comes next?" Mystique asked. Destiny had already glimpsed at the future and saw that Rogue was going to return to the mansion. It was where she belonged. The shapeshifter just needed to hear it for her self now. "You got a permanent place here, if you want it."

Rogue looked around slowly, already having made up her mind. "I'm going to return to the mansion. I'm going to take Artie up there, get him in school and keep an eye on him. Someone did that for me once, and it's time I repaid the favor."

"And what about the team here?" Mystique hadn't been surprised. She had been given plenty of warning, but it didn't lessen the blow of rejection. That would always sting. "What do you want to do with them? They are your team now."

"They aren't my team any long, Raven. They never really were," Rogue shrugged her shoulders slightly. "They are just a bunch of kids, wanting the glory of what it's like to be known for good things. They haven't seen the gruesome truth of the whole job yet. That's why I didn't want to take them.

"Three days?" He asked as he closed the bedroom door behind himself.

She shook her head as she shifted over, making room for him on the bed. He sat next to her, his shoulder touching hers, reaching for her hand. She didn't pull away from him like she would have normally done, instead allowing herself this little last little bit of intimacy even from this man who had shown her that she was worth more than just a dangerous toy.

"Three days," she repeated softly, watching the way his thumb traced small circles along the skin of the back of her hand. She found herself hypnotized by it all. With all that had happened since she had found the key to controlling her mutation, she hadn't had the time to let the impact really sink in. She was finally in control of her own destiny and didn't have to hope for anyone to look past the impossibilities of her mutation. ""Have you made your decision yet?"

Alex smiled, watching her watch his hand. He spoke lightly, keeping his tone nonchalant, even as he fought the emotions welling up inside of him. "I'll go to New York with you for a little bit. Only to get some training, though. I want to eventually come back here. Get some new recruits. Form a new team. Things are really bad here for mutants. I want to do some good."

"As long as you know what you are getting yourself into," Rogue replied, lifting her gaze to meet his.

Both paused for a moment, feeling the atmosphere shift. He leaned in closer to her, and she didn't stop him. She wouldn't stop him. Every fiber in her body wanted this just as much as he did. It felt like eternity before his lips met hers, but when they did, she relished in the tenderness she found as his tongue gently tasted her lips.

This kiss reminded herself that some small part of her was still Marie, the little southern belle who dreamed of adventures and was afraid of shadows. But she was no longer little Marie, at least not completely. She allowed herself this little bit of youth before pulling away from him.

"You know this can't keep going, right? Does this have to do with you not wanting to be at the mansion?"

Alex sighed, sitting back against the head board. He didn't want to lie to her. She would be able to smell it on him anyway. "Partly, yes. I know we both promised that what we did before wouldn't turn into anything more. We both just felt needed and wanted. We were both hurting. But I've fallen in love with you, Rogue.

"I know it's not possible," Alex continued before Rogue could interrupt him. "I know about Logan and you, and I know that, in the end, nothing but your own stubbornness and his own cluelessness will keep you two apart. But you were meant for him and he was meant for you and there is nothing that will ever change that."

She lowered her gaze first, appreciating his understanding even though she knew it was killing them both. He was right, though. Just the mention of his name made her feel like her veins were full of electricity.

"I'm sorry," Rogue whispered, swallowing the lump that was forming in her throat. "Maybe if it had been a life time ago…"

"More like a year ago," Alex snorted, his voice full of amusement.

"No. Not even then," Rogue rationalized, catching his attention full on. "I think I have really been his since the day I was born."

"Then why haven't you told him yet? Why are you sitting in this bed, talking to me about your forlorn love life?" He let go of her hand now, startling Rogue who had forgotten that he still held it.

"Because I don't appreciate eavesdroppers," Rogue giggled, her gaze shifting to the bedroom door across the room. They both heard the appreciative growl and the heavy sounds of someone walking away angrily. "And because as much as I love him, he is still too capable of hurting me. I'm tired of being hurt. I'm sick of the pain and the tears and all the damage caused by loving him."

"You don't know if that's what's going to happen," Alex shrugged, throwing his arm over her shoulder. "That's part of what makes it all exciting. You don't know what's in store for you."

"You've been hanging out with the swamp rat, haven't you?" Rogue chuckled. She could picture Remy saying those exact words to what ever pair of pants he was trying to get into.

Alex laughed with her, enjoying her teasing for once. She hadn't been the same since they arrived at the mansion. "He does love you, though. I think it's just taken him some time to figure that out. Otherwise, he wouldn't haven been trying to hear what we are doing."

"Yeah, and that just makes it so much more fun to make him wait," Rogue replied with a throaty laugh.


	33. Kitchen Talk

Rogue sighed softly as she sat down at the kitchen table. A cup of tea sat before her, the steam rising in swirl like patterns. It was late, well after midnight now. The other's were still sleeping the events of the day off, and while Rogue tried to sleep after shoving Alex out of the room a few hours ago, she had done no more than just tossed and turned. So now she sat, trying to sort out all the memories and emotions of her most recent absorptions. Creed still tickled at her thoughts from the shadows, but she was used to this from the others, and was able to ignore it without problem.

She heard the footsteps coming ten seconds before they walked through the door. Rogue caught the scent as soon as the door open, and she fought hard against the growl wanting to escape her throat. This wasn't something that she had expected, but she should have. It was bound to happen.

She didn't lift her head as she heard the chair next to her slightly scrape against the tile of the kitchen floor. The intruder sat next to her, placing her hands on the table.

Rogue looked up then, her eyes locking with a pair that were an even darker brown than her own. "Have you made your decision?"

"I'm going to stay around here," the other woman replied, her body shifting as she spoke. This conversation wasn't easy for either of them, although Rogue seemed to be able to handle her discomfort much better, even if only slightly. "I'm not really all that great with people, and I doubt that I would really fit in too well."

"You would be surprised what some of these people can do." Rogue smirked as thoughts of the children danced in her mind. "What about the others?"

"Rusty and Vasquez will stay here, too. This is Rusty's home, and he doesn't want to watch it get any worse. Vasquez is going to bring his family here, get them settled in. He misses his children very much." Wolfsbane's eyes grew cloudy for a moment, her thoughts drifting away from her.

Rogue knew exactly what was going through her mind, and, against every fiber in her body, reached for the other woman's hand. "I am sorry for your loss. I understand better than you would think."

Wolfsbane flashed her a sad smile, her eyes growing misty as she spoke. "He was a good man. We… He was the only one who understood. I'm going to miss him greatly, but it won't be so bad. A few decades and we will be together again. It's you that I don't envy."

Rogue pulled her hand back slowly, her gaze becoming more intense. "What do you mean?"

"I mean you and your feral. Your mate," she emphasized, arching an eyebrow. "You two have eternity together, and this is how you're going to start it? Denying what you two could have together?"

Rogue smiled, bringing the cup to her lips and taking a small sip. "This relationship with Logan is… delicate. And that's putting it lightly."

"I doubt there is anything about that man that you could call delicate," Wolfsbane replied with a giggle. "What are you afraid of? Why are you so scared to let him in?"

Rogue sighed, looking away from the other woman. She couldn't find the words to voice her worries, and, if she was being honest with herself, she wasn't even sure what those were.

She felt the hand under her own shift slightly so that Wolfsbane was now holding her hand. Rogue locked eyes with the other feral, shocked by the turn of comfort she saw in her eyes. "Don't loose him because you are afraid. Fear is a big part of love. Enjoy him while you have him, or he's heart will slip right through your fingers."

Rogue ducked her head quickly, not wanting Wolfsbane to see the tears that were gathering in her eyes. She felt a light pat on her head just before she head the other woman stand and make her way out of the kitchen. Part of her, the part that was completely animal now, still got riled whenever they were in the same room together, but the part of her that was still completely human, still Marie, knew that she was right and was grateful. She still had to make up her mind.

She was making herself another cup of tea when the kitchen door swung open again. She smiled to herself, realizing how much she really did miss their late night conversations. Turning, she leaned against the stove where the now empty kettle sat like a loan warrior, waiting for replenishment.

"You want to add something special to that cup?" Victor asked, lightly shaking the bottle of whiskey he held in her direction.

She shrugged, grabbing the bottle and adding it to the hot liquid she was holding like a lifeline. He always knew what she really needed. They sat at the table quietly as she took sips from her mug and he swigged from the bottle.

Half way through her drink, their eyes connected, and both erupted in a fit of laughter. When their giggles died down, Rogue smiled appreciatively at him. "Thank you."

"I know," Victor replied quickly, his voice nonchalant. "I'm going back with you, for a little while."

"Really?"

"Yup. Me and Jim…"

"Logan," Rogue interrupted quickly. She knew why Victor refused to call him that, the secrets that laid between them. "His name is Logan now."

"Logan." His face twisted sourly as if just saying the word left a bad taste in his mouth. "We still have a conversation waiting between us."

Rogue nodded her agreement, drinking the rest of her tea in one gulp.

"Plus, I want to see how riled up I can get the weather witch while I'm there. Think I can talk her into a nice quick fuck while I'm passing through?" Victor smiled again, his canines flashing menacingly in the dim kitchen light.

"I think," Rogue said slowly, her voice smooth and thoughtful, "she would electrocute your ass before you could even so much as touch her again. She's never forgiven you for bashing her head against that window."

"It wasn't personal. She was just trying to keep me from doing my job." Victor sat back in his chair, the legs under him groaning as he did. "Besides, I think she likes it rough."


	34. Splitting Up

In the end, Rogue found that the majority of her team was returning with her. Havok would stay long enough to be molded into a true leader, and Psylocke had agreed to join them until they could find another telepath to take her place. Victor said he would stick around for a month or so, depending on how long it took to get into Storm's pants. Gambit and Pyro would both return to become permanent residents at the school and possibly to join the team.

Logan was anxious to return to his students, completely certain that they had all lapsed on their training. Especially Jubilee. In the three days before their agreed departure, Rogue and Logan had avoided each other like the plague. He found he wasn't ready for her to tell him no, and she found she wasn't quite ready to say yes. The other's all felt that this justified the two were soul mates.

The morning of their departure, Rogue found herself in the company of Mystique and Destiny. Although she hadn't spent much time with the blind mutant while she was here, she found a growing affection for the older woman.

"You will be missed sorely, Rogue," Destiny told her slowly, their hands clasped as they sat side by side on the couch. "You have more strength and wisdom than you give yourself credit for. Once you get control of yourself and leave all those uncertainties behind, you will find that you are more capable than even those you look up to. You are going to do great things with your life. I know many of them, and yet I feel that what I have seen is only the tip of the iceberg."

"What have you seen?" Rogue asked. She was curious to know what other obstacles she would have to over come. Even with Destiny's reassuring words, she wasn't sure she could take much more of this.

Destiny only smiled, her lips pierced tightly together. "Just know that not everything is written in stone. Your future is a series of paths with each decision acting as a fork in the road. Some things, though, you will not be able to escape, no matter what choices you make. Such as that man who insists on growling at everything around him."

Rogue choked on her laughter. She would miss her greatly.

"Is there no way I can talk you into staying with us?" Mystique asked wistfully even as they heard the obnoxious noise of the men in the kitchen. "I'm begging you."

"I'm already going to give you somewhat of a break from all of them," Rogue replied sweetly as she stood from the couch. "Just be thankful that it's only Pietro that's staying behind for now."

"Agh! He's the worst of the bunch," Mystique complained. "If that man 'accidently' knocks over another piece of crystal, I swear I'm going to cut off his damn legs."

Rogue laughed as she left the room, ready to get her team together. It was time to return home.


	35. Leadership

Rogue found everything quiet when they returned home. There was no homecoming party, no visitors. Nothing that gave any indication that she had been missed. They were given a day to settle in. Gambit and Havok found no trouble at all regrouping with the friends they had made the last time they were at the mansion. Rogue, on the other hand, found company only with John and Victor when ever Logan was busy training the new team.

He continued to keep his distance from her, not wanting to push her, and she found herself growing agitated by the delicate way he was treating her. She was determined not to let it get to her, but she knew she would have to go to him. She just wasn't ready for that yet. So they found themselves back into their old patterns from before. Almost. There was now added tension in the air whenever they were watching a game or having a meal together. He had become harder on her whenever they were training together, also. And he never allowed her to spar with any of the others, giving a thin explanation that it was because of her added strength. They would always bicker about this, but he was team leader and his word was always the last.

It wasn't until a week after their return when things changed and Rogue found herself standing in the professors old office, Storm eyeing them both carefully. She had come to a decision that none had realized she had been debating, and by the pointed way she was watching them both, Rogue wasn't certain that either of them would be happy about it.

"I want you both to understand something simple," Storm began sternly, her focus mostly on Logan. "With these new additions, we have the capabilities of a very powerful team. But, unless headed by the right people, they can very easily all be divided. I have decided that, while we will continue to have two separate teams for the smaller missions, I want all of our members to train together so that we will be prepared for all disasters."

"So you want Drake to take over leadership?" Logan growled angrily. Rogue felt her fists clench at the idea. He was currently recovering from the surgery to his face, but word was that he would be as good as new in no time. She was very tempted to return to Las Vegas if he was going to be in charge of her.

"Actually," Storm hesitated for a moment, "Iceman will no longer lead any of the teams. I looked into what happened closely, and after careful review, I have come to the conclusion that he is not mentally ready for such responsibility. He is too emotionally invested in certain aspects of his teams lives that are not necessarily his business. I will be informing him of these changes later today. I want you both to head our teams. Together."

Rogue found that Logan was speechless. She could only imagine what he was thinking. But this would give her an edge that she hadn't had before. She would be able to have a say in how the team was trained and even in her own training. "I'll do it."

"Hold on a second," Logan stammered, laying a hand on her shoulder. Of course he was going to object to this. "You're not ready for this."

"Knock it off, Logan," Rogue growled, taking a step away from him before she found herself willing to give in to the temptation of hitting him. "I'm not going to get broken out there if I lead a team. I've already proven that I am more than capable of taking care of myself and looking out for the others. I know what they are capable of and I am not giving that up. I'm not going to break if I get my hands dirty. Now, if you're not willing to join me on this, then you can stand down and I will do it by myself."

He didn't reply, only nodded as he kept his eyes glued to her.

"Then it's settled." Storm couldn't help the smile that crept into her normally stoic features. "You can go through the roster and use your own discretions for who will work best in which scenarios as they come along. Any extraordinary missions will need both of you, though. You can go now."

Rogue didn't miss the smile spread wider along the weather witches face as they turned to leave, and she deduced that Logan hadn't either when he let out a small growl as the door closed behind them.

"You set this up, didn't you?" Logan asked, turning on her. She could see the anger in his eyes, and something stirred deep within her belly.

"Don't be absurd," Rogue chaste as she walked past him. "I have had nothing to do with this. I was just as shocked as you."

He grabbed her by her arm, pulling her back to him. She felt the stirring in her belly grow stronger as her body pressed against his. Her breathing hitched as his gaze locked onto hers. "I just can't stand the idea of you getting hurt again."

His mouth was just inches from hers, and she found herself aching to touch them. When she spoke, she found her voice was husky with lust. "And you think it's such a fun thought for me, Sugar?"

"Darlin'…" She didn't let him finish. She pushed herself up on tip toe and molded her mouth to his; swallowing anything else he might say.

Greedily, they devoured each other, even as he lifted her into his arms and carried her to his room. They were too involved in each other to notice anyone around them. Neither heard Victor's chuckle or Gambit's comments about how it was about time as they passed them in the hall.

Logan growled deeply as he pulled away from her mouth after laying her on his bed and kneeling over her. He laid a trail of kisses and light nips along her jaw line as he worked his way down her neck, her body shaking even as his hands went to the buttons on the front of her flannel blouse. He slowly pulled apart the shirt, enjoying the way she was squirming against the leg that was currently pressed against her crotch. The aroma of her arousal was all around them, sweet and pungent. It was all he could do not to just plow right into her.

"Please, Logan," Marie whispered, her voice full of longing and encouragement. Her hands moved to his head, her fingers entangling in his hair as she massaged the top of his scalp, encouraging him further. "I need you."

The last button undone, he threw the shirt open and candidly stared at her. Her breasts pushed against the creamy white lace of her bra with each breath she took. He groaned as he reached for her, pulling him to her as she finished removing her shirt. His lips her on hers again, drinking from them as if they were the finest wine.

Reaching around her, he swiftly unclasped her bra, letting it hang between them as he pulled the straps down so she could lift her arms out of them.

She moaned again as his hands moved lower, caressing her back. He hooked his thumbs on the inside of her jeans even as her hands fumbled between their entwined bodies, reaching for the button and zipper. He pulled hard as soon as he heard the release of the button as soon as she opened it, pulling her jeans down so that they pooled around her knees.

Her shoes were already gone. He wasn't sure if she kicked them off while he was concentrating on her neck, or if she lost them somewhere along the way, but it didn't matter. Just one less hindrance he had to worry about. He ducked down, letting her fall back to the bed as he left kisses along the curves of her stomach, moving further down to taste her.

She moaned as she felt his tongue against her core. Everything seemed to break at that moment. This was perfect; it was what was supposed to happen. Her fingers wandered into his hair again as his passionately kissed her in her most private of areas. She wasn't sure how much longer she could take this. Every muscle in her body seemed to tighten as he explored her crevices. Before she knew it, she fell over the edge, his name on her lips as she shook against his mouth.

He couldn't wait any longer. As she came back from her explosion, he sat up and quickly stripped his own clothes, not wanting anymore barriers between them. Even the thought of having just a simple shirt separating him from the softness of her skin was enough to drive him crazy.

As soon as he was completely unclothed, he pressed himself against her. His eyes met hers, wanting one last conformation before he allowed himself this. She nodded quickly, her legs wrapping around his hard body, and she helped to push him in. As soon as he felt her wet warmth envelop him, he fell into heaven.


	36. The Past Will Always Bite You In The A

He watched her sleep, her mouth partially open, a soft murmur escaping with every breath she released. She was the most beautiful creature he had ever known, and she was his. But that didn't quench his thirst for a good beer. Carefully so as not to wake her, he crawled off the bed, grabbing a pair of sweatpants that laid on the back of his desk chair and throwing them on. He closed the bedroom door softly behind him, a smile playing along his lips as he made his way to the kitchen. This was all he had ever wanted.

His smile disappeared as he entered the kitchen and found Victor sitting at the counter, a cold beer (his cold beer, damn it) sitting in front of him, half gone.

"How the hell did you get a taste for this crap, Jimmy?" Victor asked stoically, pushing the bottle away. The bottle of Molson slid across the counter, stopping just at the edge and directly in front of Logan.

"What do you want?" Logan asked, trying hard to control the growl in his voice. He didn't like this man any better than he had before. He could only now tolerate him because of all he had done for Rogue. "Why are you here?"

"Just sit down and listen, would ya?" Victor growled back. "I'm already in a bad mood. You could have at least been hospitable and gotten some good alcohol."

"You could have asked first," Logan replied with a shrug. He was still having a hard time dealing with the other feral's presence in the mansion, but the thought of the woman laying naked in his bed, fast asleep, helped to keep his nerves calm.

"I'm not here to bicker over bad beer with you, Jimmy," Victor stated distastefully. In truth, he was tired of this game. It was beginning to bore him. "Would you sit your ass down and listen?"

Logan didn't reply, only taking the seat directly across from this man he would never be able to accept as friend. He waited a moment while the other feral collected his thoughts. He could almost see the internal argument Victor was having.

Victor looked up again, reaching over and grabbing the half empty bottle. He took a long swig, his face twisting into a grimace at the awful taste.

"You and I knew each other once, a long time ago," he began slowly, his eyes down cast as he spoke. "We met when we were brought together to join a team of mutant mercenaries headed by Colonel William Striker."

"I know the name," Logan whispered, thinking about the old man who claimed to hold the secret of his past. "He's dead now."

Victor nodded, his face void of any surprise by this news. He would have expected as much. One of them were destined to kill the man, it was only fitting.

"We were usually sent in teams of two or three on missions. You and I were paired together mostly. Some times another merc named Wade Wilson was sent with us, too." Victor paused again, a disconcerting smile touching his lips. "That ass was a fucking psychopath. And he wouldn't shut up. We used to fight over who would get him. And he wasn't worth a shit at surveillance. I think the only reason Striker kept him around was because of his use with a sword and a gun."

"What happened to him?" Logan asked, his curiosity growing. The name held the whisper of familiarity, but it, just like all his other memories, were just outside of his reach.

"Last I heard, he's traveling around Europe somewhere, trying to prove that he's not as crazy as everyone thinks he is, and only making it worse."

"So, he's another healer?"

"No. He was given an artificial healing factor, modeled after yours. It doesn't work as well, but it keeps him going. He's still young. But it was a hard procedure and it really fucked up his face, not to mention his head. He doesn't have too good a memory, either," Victor's voice grew quiet as he spoke. "Wade was brought in because he had cancer. He volunteered for the procedure, and Striker accepted him on the condition that Wade would join the team. I'm not even sure if he was born a mutant, or made into one."

"Who gave him his healing factor?" Logan asked quickly, before Victor could change the subject.

"The same people who gave you you're claws," Victor replied with a shrug. Victor looked up, catching Logan's stare with his own. "The rest of us, as far as I know, were basically left alone. Just you and Wade. And you were both pretty fucked because of it."

"There were more?" Logan asked quickly, trying to get as much information as possible. He was starved for anything that could point him to the man he once was. But what ever he found out now would be the end of. It was time for him to move forward with his life, if he was ever to expect any kind of future with the woman in his bed.

Victor smiled slowly, his memory bringing forward images of those he once considered his brothers. "There was you and me, and Wade, of course. Like I said, he was insane and it only got worse after they fucked with his mind. There were times when he would get this blank stare and start talking to someone or something. I asked him once who he was talking to, and he just said the readers, of course."

Logan lifted an eyebrow cynically. Victor shrugged. "I didn't get it either, but he just cracked up, and just told me not to worry about it. It was his secret. Then there was Fred Dukes. He was an immovable force. Once he planted his feet, nothing could get past him. John Wraith, a teleporter, Chris Bradley, an electropathic, and, of course, Agent Zero. Zero was a great marksman, but, if you ask me, him mutation was in his ability to be a complete douche bag."

"What happened to split us up?"

Victor paused, searching for the right words. "You had met a pretty little thing during a recon mission in Canada. You kept in contact, giving her some stupid excuse that you worked on a fishing boat off of Alaska, which was why you traveled a lot. She sent you letters, you wrote back. You showed off pictures that she sent you. She was a beautiful woman by the name of Kayla Silverfox. It didn't take long before we all realized you were in love. There was a lot of ribbing over that one, but you took it with stride.

"You put in for a leave. You were supposed to be gone a month. During this time, Wade and I were paired up. While you were gone, we were given a mission. We were to track and kill a woman who, according to the file Striker gave us, was working for the Soviet Union, sent to infiltrate our team for information on our weaknesses." Victor paused again, taking a deep breath. This was going to be the hard part of all of this, and Victor realized that he was holding that breath. "We… When we got the file on the woman, the code name marked was Silverfox. And the picture… It was a picture of Kayla. We were to kill her and bring you back."

"Was she…" Logan asked quickly. Like with Wade Wilson, the name was familiar, almost too easy to roll off of his tongue, but, again, any memories were just out of his reach.

Victor shook his head, lowering his gaze again. "No. She was just a school teacher. I think she taught third grade, but I really don't remember. She... Striker saw her as a threat to the team. You were his prize pet. His number one recruit and Striker didn't want to chance loosing you to her. So he sent me to kill her."

"And I didn't stop you?" Logan swallowed hard. He allowed these men into his home and he was unable to stop them. "Why didn't I stop you?"

"You tried to." Victor ran a clawed hand through his short hair, doing everything but catching Logan's gaze. He didn't have regrets. He didn't believe in them. But if there was anything he could have changed, it would have been this….

"You can't be fucking serious," Jimmy roared as his bone claws unleashed from his hands. They couldn't be right. It just wasn't possible.

"Look at the fucking file, Jimmy," Victor growled back, throwing it at him. They could hear Kayla in the other room, sobbing uncontrollably. Wade was with her, uncharacteristically quietly for once. It was Wade's lack of jokes that really got to Jimmy. It meant that this was all beyond serious.

Jimmy snatched the file off the ground where it landed with a soft thump. It wasn't that thick, but thick enough to eat away at his denial. Opening it up, he read a quick report on the woman he had fallen in love with.

She was working for the Soviets. She was sent to infiltrate and learn everything about subject Wolverine. She was supposed to report back to HQ once every month, her last one being two days before his leave started, the next being the day of his departure. She was a mutant with the ability of persuasion through touch. His stomach twisted as he red the description. She could have very easily warped his mind already so that he wouldn't be able to tell the difference between her lies and truths.

Jimmy didn't say another word. He turned and left the room, not looking back. This just proved that there was no one left to trust but his team.

Victor nodded gently at him as he left, an unsaid understanding between them. It would be quick, or at least as quickly as Victor could allow it.

As he walked away from the cabin he had shared with the woman whom he fell in love with through a pack of lies, Jimmy could hear her screams pierce the air. The screams had ended by the time he had made it to the end of the drive way.

Logan felt his gut twist. He wasn't expecting this. No wonder he couldn't get past his dislike of the man. "When did you find out it was all a lie?"

Victor caught his gaze again, this time holding on to it. He wanted to make sure that his old friend knew the truth. All of it. "Right after they took your memories and gave you your skeleton. Striker wanted to make you into the ultimate weapon. Weapon X. But, just before you went under, you were beginning to doubt whom he claimed Kayla was. So, to keep you the man he wanted you to be, he had the doctors erase your memory. That was when you went berserker. You tore the place apart. We were barely able to get Striker out alive. The doctors died. That was the last time I saw you until a few years ago, when Magneto sent me after Rogue."

Logan didn't know what to say to the man before him. He had taken one love away, but had given him another. Was that supposed to make up for everything else? How much different would his life be now if Striker had just allowed Kayla to live? But then, would he have been in that crappy bar at the right moment to meet and later save Rogue? Would she be in his life now? Who would she be? Would she even be alive? Did she already know what Victor had done?

"Marry that girl, Logan," Victor spoke slowly, dragging the man away from his what ifs. "She deserves a lot more than you can give her, but you make her happy. She deserves to be happy. I've seen some sick shit, but, with what I saw in her head, she's been through too much not to deserve some happiness. She loves you. She would do anything for you. That's not a gift to give up easily."

Logan nodded to the other feral. He stood from his stool, turning away as he walked out the door. Logan found he had his own questions to ask someone else, now.


	37. Pillow Talk

She was sitting up in the bed when he entered the room; the blankets wrapped snuggly around her naked form. She watched intently as he removed his shirt while closing the door.

He wasn't angry with her for keeping this from him he just wanted to know why. And he needed to know if she knew anything else. He crawled into the bed, wrapping one arm around her waist, and nuzzled her hair with his nose, taking in her scent. She smelled of her shampoo, rosemary and power, a mixture that would forever be a turn-on for him.

Rogue leaned into him, her hand tracing small circular patterns along his chest. "You spoke with Victor?" she inquired softly, noting the sadness in her mate's eyes as he held her. It was easy to surmise where it came from.

Logan nodded once, slowly breathing in and out a few times. He needed to know why, but he didn't want to give her any reason to doubt his love. He didn't want her to run. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because it wasn't my story to tell," she replied. She didn't want him to hurt. "Because it was something he needed to do, for his own soul as much as yours. You can't absolve the soul without a true confession."

"I didn't realize you were religious," Logan told her with a smile, trying to lighten the mood.

Her posture loosened just a little and he could feel her relax against him. "Born and raised Baptist. Which reminds me, sugar, could you please get rid of that awful tombstone they put out there for me? I really don't want any more reminders of how ready they were to let me go. Or how little they really knew me at all."

Logan chuckled a little. "No one could ever get rid of you that easily, darlin', but don't worry about it." He took a deep breath, his voice tightening again. "Did you get anything else from my memories?"

"I don't have your memories, Logan. That's not how my mutation works. I take the thoughts that are at the forefront of your mind when you touch me. I get more depending on how long you hang on. I have all of Carol's memories, and Savannah's. I don't have any from Bobby, and very little from John. There are a lot of Magneto's, not as many as yours, but enough. But when it comes to your memories, it's like your healing factor was working overtime; I couldn't get all of them because of you can't get to them.

"If you had truly died on that statue, I might have seen everything. As it is, your memories - and the ones you've forgotten - are the same in my mind, whispers of ghosts that are just too soft to hear. I know they're there, I can feel them, and my spine seems to shiver each time I'm almost close enough to know. But they always stay just outside of my reach, taunting me.

"I know what happened because of what Victor knows and what he did. Thoughts of you and Silverfox were on his mind when he gave me his healing factor. It was his way of fulfilling the promise he had made himself all those years ago after he killed her. He was a pawn, just like you."

Logan allowed his mind to wrap around everything she had just revealed to him, all of the pain she must have from the lives she carried memories of, the knowledge that came with it… He paused for a moment, running the list of people she had named through his mind. His hand still rubbed softly along her back as she leaned further into him. She was beginning to wonder how long it would take him to grasp what she had just told him, when he finally spoke again.

"When did you touch Savannah?" Logan asked slowly, knowing that it could only have happened after his little indiscretion.

Rogue smiled, her face hidden by a curtain of snow-white hair. "Right after I returned to Vegas, just before I went after Creed. How else do you think I found out what she was up to and all that information on Creed?"

Logan shrugged, feigning ignorance. "Search engine?"

Rogue laughed, tossing her head back as she did so. She knew that he could be dense, but this was getting ridiculous.

"Does this mean…"

"Yup," Rogue replied, not bothering to hide her amusement anymore. She was going to enjoy torturing him with this. "I saw all of it, Logan. Everything you two did together. Every little inch of skin."

"Marie, baby…" Logan grasped for any chance to explain that it wasn't what she thought, but she didn't give him the chance.

She pressed her lips to his, slowly drawing out the kiss even as she deepened it. It soon became too intense for breathing, and she pulled away, quickly noting the dazed look in his eyes.

"Don't worry about it, sugar," Rogue told him, laying back and turning her back was to him. "Let's get some sleep."

He lay down next to her, molding himself to her back as he lazily slid a possessive arm around her waist. "So you aren't upset?"

Rogue pressed her backside against his pelvis, smiling to herself as she felt him stir. "Why would I be upset, sugar? It's not like I wasn't fucking Havok at the time."

Logan didn't get any sleep that night, he just kept thinking of different ways to kill the boy.


	38. Epilogue

!

When Rogue awoke the next morning, Logan was already gone. Looking at the clock, she realized he must be down in the Danger Room, going through his own workout before it was time to start training the others. She smiled reflectively; she had found happiness at last. Quickly, she snuck out of the room and back to her own so she could get dressed.

She dressed quickly, knowing that she only had a very minimal amount of time for privacy. Early morning had always been her favorite time in the mansion, because there were usually so few people awake at 5:00 am on a Saturday, and she didn't have to worry about any accidents as a result of getting stuck in a crowd. But now, she found that she relished the serene quiet that comes along with rising early. Most of all, she loved the way the sun felt against her skin during her early morning run, almost as if the first rays of the day were the most rejuvenating.

She threw on a black t-shirt, along with a pair of biking shorts, her socks and shoes. Grabbing a hair-tie off the dresser, she pulled her hair straight back, the white strips down the middle giving her the look of a skunk as she tied it into a high ponytail.

She raced to the kitchen, wanting to grab a bottle of water before she took off. When she turned the corner she came face to face with Victor, a bag at his feet. The same bag he had packed when deciding to return to the mansion with her one last time.

"Hey, Frail," Victor said, a little uncomfortable, "I was just on my way to the store."

"Let me guess," Rogue giggled, watching the way he kept fidgeting under her gaze. "For a pack of cigarettes and a twelve-pack, right? Jenny-Lee's daddy said the exact same thing before disappearing for 10 years when we were six. He left his wife of 15 years alone with six kids, five of them hell-raising boys, and a grandbaby on the way. They found him in Mexico, running a donkey show, and the only reason I know about that is because Jenny-Lee's brother Robby made sure he described it to me in detail. Now, what's really going on here, Victor? Are you leaving?"

Victor smiled, knowing that his lie was too weak to be believable, but he hadn't expected the unbelievably long tirade or her thickening accent. It just made him realize that he really was going to miss her.

"Yeah, I'm leaving," Victor laughed. "I think that lighting bolt up Ororo's ass has fried her brain. I was hoping to sneak out before you came down, though."

"Really?" Rogue tilted an eyebrow at him.

Victor shrugged again. "I don't like goodbyes. They're always really mushy, and if a girl is involved, she always has to cry."

"Fine. I promise I won't cry," Rogue smiled, her eyes brimming with tears. This man before her had once haunted her nightmares, but suddenly, he was her closest friend. He had done more for her than anyone else, including Logan, and had shown her what it meant to really lead a team. She would forever be in his debt.

"What the fuck!" Victor whispered as he watched her tears begin to overflow and trickle down her cheeks. Then came a gruff, "I won't be gone forever. I'll come back and visit. Once a year. Promise."

He pulled her into a hug, crushing her against his chest as they laughed together. He couldn't really imagine leaving without saying goodbye to her.

"Alright," she finally said, pushing away from him, "get out of here. Call and write often. I want details, damn it."

Victor picked up his bag, turning toward the door that would lead him to the garage. He paused, and then turned back to her. His smile was gone, and his eyes were serious and deadly now. "If he isn't good to you, find me."

Rogue only nodded, knowing exactly what he meant. She doubted it would ever come to that, but she knew Victor trusted very few and offered such sentiments to even fewer.

She watched him leave, a smile playing on her lips. She grabbed her bottle of water from the refrigerator and flipped on her iPod, starting her run.

She caught his scent as she reached the dense thicket at the edge of the grounds, and pondered for a moment, knowing how he preferred to go through his daily routine alone. It meant fewer distractions than what the presence or even the scent and sound of another person might bring.

She decided that this was the perfect opportunity to put her tracking abilities to the test. If she could hunt the Wolverine without being detected, she might just be able to prove to him that she was stronger than he seemed to think, and could take care of herself.

She started by taking to the air, though only levitating a foot or so above the ground. She wanted to make sure she made no noise, and knew that flying bettered her chances. Then, she proceeded to follow his scent, knowing that he hadn't realized she was out here with him. She had the distinct advantage of being downwind from her prey, and caught up to him with little fuss.

Hidden behind a cluster of bushes, she watched from a safe distance as he paused to take a drink from the bottle he carried. As far as she could tell, he hadn't caught her scent yet, or he was pretending that he hadn't. But since the wind was still blowing against her, he probably hadn't picked it up.

She needed to find a way to get his attention without being spotted. An idea came to her as she looked at the trees around them.

He had only just begun jogging again when he heard the loud crack of a twig getting stepped on. He knew right away that the noise hadn't come from him, but from behind. Pausing for a moment, he also heard the unmistakable grunt of another person. Someone was following him.

He knew it wouldn't be one of his teammates; they knew better than to try to play games with him. He briefly wondered if it was one of the students, but quickly dismissed the idea. It was Saturday morning; if any were up, they were young enough to be sitting in the living room, watching cartoons before breakfast.

When he heard the crack again, he decided to investigate. Backtracking slowly, he hunched over low to gain some camouflage from the dense bushes and trees around him. He stalked toward the noise, picking up the different scents in the area.

One stood out from the others, the most potent scent he could catch. As he moved into the marked area further, he found that it was all around him. He smirked as he caught the direction of the scent, keeping any noise to a minimum as he moved. He had turned the tables; the prey becoming the hunter.

She suppressed a giggle as she watched him. He had taken the bait, playing perfectly into her little trap. As he stalked closer to the branch that held her shirt, she floated a foot off the ground again, coming up behind him. Taking the time to rub against the trees in the area had been best, because it meant he wouldn't be able to pick up her presence right away.

He became confused when all he found was a black tank top that had Marie's scent all over it. He reached towards it and smiled, defeated. He should have known that she was playing a game with him. Well if she wanted to play hide and seek, he could play.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when he turned back. Expecting to have to hunt her down and surprise her, he realized she had been baiting him when he turned to find her standing only a breath away, in a pair of black biking shorts and a black sports bra.

"Can I get my shirt back, sugar?" she asked sweetly, reaching for the garment he still clutched in his left hand.

"I don't know, darlin'," Logan rumbled in reply, pulling it just out of her reach and holding it behind his back. "I really don't like games."

Her head tipped back a little as she laughed. "I know, sugar, but it was just too good to resist. Besides, I had to prove something to myself."

Logan raised a brow, the unasked question hanging between them.

Her smile became shy as she tilted her head down, modestly watching him through her lashes. "I wanted to see if I could really trap the Wolverine."

"Darlin'," Logan gently and quietly admonished her as he pulled her close, her breasts pressed against his chest as he molded her to his body. "You trapped me years ago, in a cage, in a bar you had no business being in. I was done in the moment you walked in."

Rogue smiled wider at the memory, her face beaming with warmth as she brought her arms around his waist. It had taken him a long time to figure it out, but now that he had, it looked as if they were going to have eternity together.

She kissed him then, unleashing her hunger for him and her love deepening the kiss. He growled his approval of the way her lips coaxed his, of how her tongue invaded his mouth, demanding his taste. He pulled her in tighter, deepening the kiss of this woman who was able to make him forget about every bad thing, disaster, and painful experience in his memory.

Her arms came up to encircle his neck, her delicate fingers tangling in his hair. She moaned sensually as he gently bit her bottom lip and tugged. Her arousal spiked and enveloped them like a warm blanket, encouraging and impossibly comforting. His hands massaged her back as he lowered them to the ground, her mouth reluctantly moving away from his to release her own growl as she straddled him and gently ground their pelvises together.

He was flat on his back now, his hands slowly lowering to her hips and massaging the bone as she left delicate open-mouthed kisses along his neck. She sat up, gazing lovingly at him as she pulled on his wife beater to bare his chest, her fingers running through the hair.

He knew there was no time like the present, his erection growing against her as she continued to grind against him.

"Darlin'," he whispered softly as he smiled up at her, wanting to continue, but not wanting to lose the moment.

She smiled in response, showing all the warmth and love she had always felt for him. It brightened her face, making her impossibly more beautiful than he would have believed, fairy-like in the early morning sun. His breath caught in his throat.

"Yes?" she prompted, her voice husky with wanting, her accent thickening more than ever. It was the most wondrous sound he had ever heard.

"Marry me?" he asked, his voice a mere breath of sound; not from nerves, but something deeper, an animalistic want that took over every fiber of his being, body and soul. "Be my wife?"

"Yes," she answered, her voice confident and devoid of any uncertainty. She leaned into him, and he devoured her mouth.

They spent the rest of the morning making love in the sun, ready to take on anything that might come at them, knowing they would survive as long as they were together.


End file.
